


Skin

by embaasan



Category: Notice Me Senpai! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8200547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embaasan/pseuds/embaasan
Summary: Sousuke and Hinata have always been inseparable - as two halves to a whole, they have shared everything - from the grief at their mother's disappearance to the face that belongs to them both.But the two of them are starved for attention and when their elite school opens its gates to the first female student in its history, the two of them are drawn in by her girlish charm. Now piqued against each other, Sousuke is left tormented and grappling with promises he can no longer keep, while Hinata's virtuous facade is slipping, to reveal an increasingly warped mind.





	1. The Third Year Cafe

Sousuke should have been miserable. 

He knew it best himself. Somewhere down the line, he had become so accustomed to the drawn-out stares and hushed voices of his relatives, brimming with all the compassion of a camera crew at a car crash, that he had become gallant, or perceived as such. Little did any of them know, Sousuke was drifting from one day to the next with a sense of detachment towards everything around him, not seeing, hearing or feeling anything at all apart from that which the arrow hitting the target dead on instilled in him. He continued to move like clockwork, with his focus lost to nothing, no one, not even the raucous, carefree laughter making its way down from the third year café on the third floor of the school building, nor the crunch of acorns beneath the marching feet of departing students. Occasionally he would toy with the pendant that hung loosely around his neck, twisting the thin rope around his pale, graceful fingers, but even this was an absent-minded, mechanical action that comforted him, representing that he was one half of a whole. 

Sousuke had an inkling that something inside of him was broken. There was a minor cog somewhere in the furthest reaches of his mind that had become jammed or something, upsetting the entire psyche of the shell that was meant to be Sousuke. Even this realization was met with indifference and he had ceased trying to mend it.

The sun was beating down on the outdoor archery range with pulsing rays but he barely acknowledged the beads of sweat that were beginning to form on his brow. With one swift, graceful movement, each part of his disciplined body aligned until he was so still, not even his eyelids dared flutter in the face of the blinding sun. No archer in the world could fault the position of his elbow, raised above his straight shoulders, or the distance between his feet. He stood, tall and heroic, subtly manipulating the arrow into place, letting the ridges and cracks of the school's unworthy equipment roll between his slender fingers as if they were moving of their own free will. His face didn't alter in the tense moments between the formation of his stance and the cracking sound of his arrow splintering the wood, but the atmosphere around him changed. His talents were so primitive, yet he held himself as if it were a timeless art and commanded the respect of anyone who dared to gaze in his direction.

Satisfied, Sousuke lowered his bow and let his shoulders relax. He slowly regained his awareness of the world around him, which, up until this point had consisted of the narrow space between himself and the target. Someone was clapping, like the low, rolling beat of a drum, through the fog of the summer heat, and instinctively, he knew who it was.

"Nii-sama," he murmured in acknowledgement, as the boy behind him approached and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

"I brought you some iced tea," the boy responded, in a soft-spoken lilt, squeezing the neck of the plastic bottle he had raised to Sousuke's eye level with the innocence of a child aggressively clutching a pet rodent.

Gratefully, the younger of the two brothers took the bottle and drank deeply, murmuring his thanks. Like everything else, he had forgotten his own thirst, but his twin was always prepared in his stead.

"How was your club meeting?" Sousuke asked out of habit, twisting the cap back onto the bottle and placing it onto the ground beside him so that he could gather his things.

Hinata's eyes always had a vibrant, mischievous glint to them which persisted even when he was tasked with breaking bad news. It was no surprise then that, as he relayed the minor annoyances faced by the Tea Ceremony Club that afternoon, he continued to swing his arms, a gentle smile etched onto his features, so similar to Sousuke's but brimming with an entirely different energy.

"A first year spilled the entire batch of matcha onto the floor," he said, showing his solemness in a way that no one else but Sousuke would be able to comprehend. "It was terrible."

"What did you do?" the younger twin asked, placing his bow lovingly in its case.

"We had to go over to the third year café to borrow some," Hinata continued, "but it seemed so lively that we decided to stay there for the afternoon instead."

Sousuke raised his sharp, defined eyebrow and his lips twitched upwards ever so slightly.

"Doesn't that defeat the point of the tea ceremony?" he asked with amusement.

Hinata didn't respond. Walking slightly ahead of his brother, he seemed distant and thoughtful all of a sudden. The cuffs of his shirt concealed his knuckles, taut and white from clenching his hands into balls. He still retained that half smile and that mischievous glint, which never faltered, but Sousuke could read his brother's emotions almost as well as he could shoot an arrow.

"Did something else happen?" he asked darkly.

Hinata glanced over his shoulder. "Not really," he outright lied, "although some of the other members drank coffee instead." He chuckled anxiously to himself, maintaining the distance between them.

The creases Sousuke was so used to seeing in the corner of his brother's eyes when his smile was genuine were not there, and before the two of them had reached the changing rooms, a dark fog had begun to infect the channel that connected their minds. 

\---

The next day, Sousuke made a decision that startled the other members of the Archery Club into indignation.

"You can't ditch!" they wailed. "We need you in peak condition for the tournament next Sunday!"

"I'll be fine," he growled, and they knew it, but they continued to harangue him nonetheless.

Once he was rid of them all, he made his way back up from the archery range to the cluster of third year classrooms on the top floor of the school building. With the same determination he showed with a bow in his hands, he bypassed the library and every student who glanced in his direction as if to greet him until he reached his destination: the third year café.

Sousuke had never been interested in visiting the café before. He vaguely remembered the excited chatter of the other students when they all became seniors and were finally granted access, but he already knew someone who had mastered the art of making his favourite hot beverages and as far as he was aware, no one else compared. Speaking of which, Hinata had still not recovered himself from whatever had happened at the café the afternoon prior, and Sousuke was becoming agitated by his own failure to register any anxiety in response. He had a fierce desire to protect Hinata, at any cost, but this was marred by his own notion that it was all an act, driven by a previous, more sincere self, as opposed to a feeling that was rooted in the present.

As he composed himself, ready for confrontation, Sousuke remembered the night his mother disappeared; how she had tucked the two of them into their respective beds and pushed back their identical straight hair to kiss their identical, pale foreheads. Sousuke knew instinctively that it was farewell, but Hinata, despite being the older of the two, was too naive to read the situation, so secure in her love and instruction that he was. That was the last night that Sousuke ever allowed himself to live under Hinata's wing, which was left crooked and broken by their mother's betrayal. He was a refined and gracious young man, by all counts, but when it came to Hinata, he felt a deep-seated fury and desperation to protect that would turn him into an ogre.

With the same hand that had brushed away his brother's tears all those years ago, Sousuke grasped the doorknob, and in one swift motion, pushed the door aside and stepped into the warm, welcoming bubble that encapsulated the third year café and everyone within it.

Hinata had been right: it was a lively place. The rattle of computer keys and the sweeping sound of pages turning was drowned out by the clamour made by the students collectively, calling out to each other and chatting across the round tables. He instantly spotted his cousin, hunched over a sketchbook like always, except instead of seeing a page marred by black ink and incredulous beauty, the page was totally blank. He was glancing up at the storeroom door every few seconds, watching it intently from beneath the same thick, black lashes that the twins had. He tools lay forgotten beside him.

"Soujiro," Sousuke called, and extended his hand to wave.

Soujiro glanced up, wearing the expression of a startled animal and automatically reached out to grab one of his pencils. He then paused, and retracted his hand, signalling Sousuke to take a seat.

"Artist's block?" the latter asked, masking his alarm at his cousin's strange reaction with a smile that appeared amused.

Soujiro glowered at him. The two of them were as close as brothers too, and greetings were not necessary, nor were honorifics. Sousuke picked up a laminated menu from the centre of the table and glanced critically at it. The list of items was an extravagant one and left no stone unturned: he barely recognized the names of half the drinks on the page and wasn't entirely sure what differentiated one from the next. He settled on an earl grey tea.

Before Sousuke had even put the menu down, there was commotion at the other side of the café. The school's infamous delinquent, Wakatoshi, seemed to have hurled a cup at the drama club's most hostile thespian, Ryuu, and the two of them were now locked in a furious battle, roaring at each other until the whole café was at a complete standstill, with every student watching, slack-jawed, as the noise developed into an almighty cacophony. Their furious words were so mangled by hatred that Sousuke could barely make them out, but their aggression towards each other was palpable. Besides, he was too distracted by the fact that Wakatoshi had cut his hair, which had made him so distinctive beforehand. The two of them edged closer and closer to each other, stepping over the shards of broken porcelain, when suddenly, and without warning, they were wrenched apart. The two of them fell back, stunned, and stood between them with her arms spread wide to create distance, brows furrowed in frustration and lips taut, stood a girl.

"Now I've told both of you a hundred times, if you feel the need to fight, go and do it somewhere that doesn't inconvenience the rest of us!"

The two of them stared at her wordlessly, like dumb animals, their quarrel fading away like a bruise. Once she was satisfied they weren't going to launch themselves at each other again, she folded her arms and gave them an expectant look. They gained their composure quickly after that.

"Sorry," Wakatoshi muttered, turning his face away from her sheepishly. Pink had blossomed across his chiseled face.

"I'm not saying it was my doing," Ryuu stammered, "but I'm sorry also."

The two of them gave each other a warning glance, and then they headed towards the café's counter where Wakatoshi retrieved a dustpan and brush. They found themselves, once again, locked in a scuffle, both exclaiming that they'd be the one to clean up the mess, until the girl cleared her throat. Wakatoshi took the dustpan while Ryuu took the brush and silently, they cleaned up the mess as allies.

No one seemed particularly alarmed by the episode once the initial shock had passed. Most of the students were now stealing shy or awestruck glances at the girl between exaggerated sips of their drinks. Others were raising their voices to tell their friends how delicious the coffee was, and then looking back expectantly at the girl to see how she would react. Her face did not change however. She watched the two boys in complete silence as they worked together to clean up the mess and once they had dumped the remains of the smashed crockery into the nearest bin, she gave them a bright smile, placing her hands on both of their shoulders.

"The two of you are more alike than you think so please try to get on better, okay?"

With that, she made her way behind the counter and began to fill up the coffee grinder, standing on her tiptoes to pour in the remains of the bag.

"Who is that?" Sousuke asked in disbelief. She'd singlehandedly managed to stun the school's most notorious students into submission.

She was wearing the school's uniform, no doubt about that, except... this was an all boy's school. Instead of the standard straight black trousers, she was wearing a pleated skirt and knee high black socks with cute patent shoes and a clean, cotton apron. Sousuke was sure a little old woman used to run the café and she certainly didn't have to wear the school's uniform. She'd potter around the corridors, greeting every boy by his name and asking them about their parents, grandparents or siblings - even those who weren't seniors yet and weren't even allowed to step foot into her fragrant domain where the coffee seemed to fall endlessly from the spout.

That was when he recalled a conversation he had overhead in class about a female student - the first in the school's history. He had pitied her back then for having to deal with the testosterone and aggression which had infected the walls of the school like asbestos, but clearly she was managing just fine.

"Everyone calls her Kouhai-chan," Soujiro murmured, "she's a first year. Her grandmother used to run the café but passed away over summer break, so she works here now."

"Oh, right," Sousuke responded. He wasn't really sure how react - it all seemed a bit strange to him that she was attending the school but he could at least accept that she was the barista. "I guess I'll go order my drink then."

Soujiro's face lit up suddenly. "Do you want me to go for you?"

The realization hit Sousuke then in waves - Soujiro, Hinata, hell, most of the guys around him... That sexual frustration all had to accumulate, right? Especially in an all boy's school. He looked down at his cousin with a smirk on his face, and awash in relief realizing that Hinata's strange behavior was nothing but a crush, he found himself shrugging and once again took his seat. "An earl grey then, if you don't mind."

Soujiro darted over to the counter, his intentions as clear as if he had painted calligraphy on his own face. The girl met him by the till with a look of astonishment.

"Soujiro-senpai, you want another coffee?" she asked.

"Ah, no, this time I'm here for my cousin. He'd like an earl grey tea, please."

She blinked at him, and glanced around the room in confusion. "Hinata-senpai's here?"

Soujiro shook his head, the dark curls which had been swept up into a ponytail bouncing wildly off his shoulders almost comically. "No, no, my other cousin. Sousuke."

Across the room, Sousuke met the girl's eyes. A look of recognition and then realization flickered over her pretty features, something he was used to whenever he was being introduced to someone who already knew Hinata - they were almost identical, after all. However, this soon faded and she gave him a warm, welcoming smile. He responded with a courteous nod, but was reeling inside from the knot that had formed in his stomach when their eyes had met. Her gaze was startling. It was faint but unmistakable - desire was culminating in the pit of his stomach and he realized too late that he was exactly the same as everyone else seated in the café - just another horny teenage boy.

It stunned him. He was exactly the same as Wakatoshi and Ryuu, dancing for her like puppets. Exactly the same as Soujiro, who could pour his heart out onto any page but right now, was too awestruck to care. His whole life, he had been cast in the same mold as no one but his twin brother, but with one glance she had stripped him down to his most basic, primal form. When Soujiro returned with the tea - piping hot and sitting in pretty little teacup - he was shaken out of his thoughts and regained the parts of himself that he had lost in their wordless encounter. He still felt, however, that somewhere in the back of his mind he had just learnt a lesson more important than anything conveyed to him in a classroom.

"Do you take milk?" Soujiro asked, passing him a little jug.

Sousuke stirred the milk into his tea in silence, and raised the cup to his lips. The subtle hint of lemon was the first to claim his senses, and he let himself sink into the café's cosy atmosphere, breathing steadily and letting his mind clear. No wonder Hinata's mind had been so occupied. No doubt he had experienced the same shock as him. He'd never responded like that to any other woman, but seeing her in his uniform made him acutely aware of the differences between men and women. The way her breasts filled the shirt where he expected there to be nothing and the the creamy coloured smooth skin of her legs were incredibly distracting. Meeting her eyes had made her human - living, breathing and touchable. 

He watched her as she cleaned down the counter with a damp dishcloth, humming to herself. Every once in a while another student would catch her attention, and she would serve them their drinks, or run over to chastise them, while all Sousuke could think about was her arms, covered by the long sleeves of her blouse. He imagined the skin around her muscles tightening as she raised them, the bow in her hands and the arrow between her fingers. In his head he was embracing her from behind, steadying her, arranging her and manipulating her aim. He realized then that he had no hope - not with all these suitors. There was one of each of them and two of him. When she hit the target and cried out in delight, he heard that slow clapping - rumbling like a drum in the distance. He turned, still holding on to her, and there behind him was Hinata, with that mischievous glint in his eyes. For the first time in his life, in that little scene that played out in his head, he was scared of his brother.


	2. Maple Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke confronts the new emotions that are distancing him from his brother and love of archery.

Sousuke aced the tournament that Sunday and celebrated his victory in the garden of the family compound with Hinata and Soujiro, basking in the warm glow of the evening sun beneath the ageing maple tree that took pride of place in the center of the garden. Hinata, awkwardly maneuvering plates polished of food into neat stacks, was chattering nonsensically about sweets and textiles while Sousuke was deep in thought. A gust of wind severed leaves from the branches of the towering trees and they scattered around the three young men, signalling the approach of autumn, but Sousuke paid no mind to the changing seasons, but rather, the changes occurring within himself.

He had lost interest in archery. The pleasure that the sport had given him in the last seventeen years, unchanging and staunch, had vanished overnight. He had not become sloppy or any less adept but he felt lost in his own victory - it was predictable, boring. He had mastered archery as both a sport and an art form and had nothing left to achieve.

He thought of Soujiro, who, back in the café, had been using his sketchbook as a convenient prop while he ogled the girl. Right now, however, his pen was perpetually only centimeters away from the pages, which were fluttering in the wind and making his words dance like strange butterflies riding the wind. Sousuke felt bitter disappointment at the effort and excitement Soujiro was channeling into his work. Meanwhile, Hinata continued rambling on about the Tea Ceremony Club and his joy at being able to buy more matcha powder and wagashi now the club's funds had been replenished.

That night, Sousuke tentatively tapped on the door leading to his father's office.

"I'm bored of archery," he announced, when his father opened the door and welcomed him in. He couldn't be bothered with greetings nor was he about to apologize. His father hadn't even returned to his seat, and the two of them stared at each other for a few moments, waiting for the other to speak.

"So tell me, son," his father finally spoke, his deep, baritone voice reverberating in a way that sent shivers down Sousuke's spine, "what do you plan to do about it?"

Sousuke and Hinata's father was old money to the outside world, and no one paid him any heed because of it. When they looked at him, they merely saw wealth, rather than the malicious curling of his lips and the searching, judgmental eyes. Sousuke was scared of his father, but at the same time, respected him. He felt that a bond existed between them, and he held onto it with all his might, for it was the one thing he and Hinata did not share. Hinata had always been more like their mother - graceful and mysterious, like the soft light of the moon and Sousuke was sure that his father was disappointed in him for it. He was an old fashioned man and did not embrace the idea of his eldest son having feminine interests and strange fancies.

With a deep, weary sigh, Sousuke's father sat down in his armchair and lit his pipe. Sousuke, who had expected a far worse reaction, knelt on the ground facing him and bowed his head.

"I don't want to quit," he confessed, "but I'm bored. I feel like I've achieved everything I can possibly achieve. I don't get the same satisfaction from it-"

"You're like your mother, both of you," he snarled. His countenance became dark and twisted. "You have no backbone."

Sousuke blanched at his words, brimming with vehemence and entirely unexpected. He had never dreamed in a million years that his father would speak those words.

"If either one of you had any mind to, you'd stick to what you're good at and wouldn't question it. Quit, if you'd like, or don't, I don't care. Now, if you've said all you have to say, go. I have things to do."

Feeling like a child, Sousuke, knelt on the ground, opened his mouth, and then closed without breathing or speaking, losing the will to argue. Instead of feeling encouraged, with passion instilled, he felt worse - worse than he had ever felt before. He had inherited his interest in archery from his father but now he was sure his father had lost interest in him. Blowing smoke from his pursed lips, the man watched him expectantly. Sousuke wasn't stupid. If he was to lash out now, it would make him more of a man in his father's eyes but he would have to take a beating. If he walked out, he would leave unscathed, but it would damage his standing even further. Reluctantly, he stood and turned, without bidding his father goodnight, and left the room, making as little noise as humanly possible.

Knowing Hinata was waiting in their bedroom, Sousuke went in the opposite direction and kept walking until he hit a dead end. Opening the door to the spare bedroom, he saw the maple tree in the distance through the window, and felt a surge of intense, burning hatred for himself and his own failure. The tree had represented more to him than he had ever realized and now he loathed the sight of it. Turning the light out he swathed himself in complete darkness and slouched against the wall in defeat.

His father was meant to have fixed the feeling of uneasiness that had settled in Sousuke's gut, making him question even his own shadow. Instead, he had torn out what little remained of his fragile self-esteem.

For a few moments, his mind was a dark, whooshing void, and everything Sousuke had ever known and loved faded to black. Everything was shrouded in a deep, unnatural darkness and he found new reasons to hate or fear in every corner of his mind. The vibrancy of green matcha powder and the pure white snow that settled over the family compound in winter; his grandmother's flower arrangements and the tingling that he felt in his palms as he held a new bow for the first time - all those sights and feelings were nothing but murky sludge in his mind and he wanted rid of it all. He could feel the crescent moon shaped dents in the palms of his hands from digging his nails into them but had to resist the urge to shout somehow. Suddenly the image of a girl with creamy-coloured bare arms and a confident gaze waltzed through his mind and through the haze of his melancholy, like a breath of fresh air, she gave him a cold, seductive smile.

"What can I get you, Sousuke-senpai?"

That melodic lilt was gone. Her voice was low but sweet. Almost as if to reassure him of his masculinity, he felt his cock growing stiff. At first he tried to ignore it, but the urge grew too strong. Somehow every movement she made was tinged with the same darkness and melancholy that had infected him and now here she was, with an unfaltering adult gaze, comforting him in his misery. This wasn't the girl from the third year café, but his own twisted rendition of her, dressed in an unfastened kimono that she barely held together over her breasts. He could see the details so vividly - the frayed golden thread and the scarlet flowers in bloom that embraced her slender figure - but not her face, which almost blotted out by his inability to connect it to the depraved figure before him. No matter how hard he tried to push the image from his mind, it persisted, and he began to feel like he was being tested.

Seductive but coy, she continued to beckon him, with crimson lips pouting like camellias. He felt immense guilt clawing at his insides but immense pleasure at the same time. He wondered how soft the skin of her inner thighs would be if he kissed it; how she might react with squeals or moans as his kisses grew closer. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, but that did nothing. His thoughts would not stop straying.

There was a split second between the moment he relented and the moments prior, in which he fought like a wild boar inside his own head for the sake of chivalry.

With trembling hands, Sousuke unzipped his jeans. He let his pretense of masculinity fade away, as in his head, she was the one to approach, on her hands and knees, with the kimono falling, falling, down to her waist. On her stomach, he could see her bare back, all lovely with dips and curves in all the right places. He watched it rise and fall with each slow, deliberate movement.

Time passed like a freight train in the night, and the image only intensified. Although there was complete silence all around him and the sky gradually darkened, his senses were all reacting violently until he was completely consumed by the cinematic picture in his head of the chestnut-haired girl and her parted lips. That red tongue, curved smile and the long bangs obscuring her eyes, were etched into the back of his eyelids like calligraphy, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to feel that hot wet tongue, wanted to know her warmth. He could feel it already, sparking his imagination like wildfire, instilling him with depraved, uncouth desires he didn't think he was ever capable of.

The maple tree swayed in the distance. Autumn, the usurper, was fast approaching, marching like an army carried by languorous winds. Sousuke feared being caught - worried that the graceless image of him sprawled on the wooden floor, intoxicated by images of a girl he barely knew, would be witnessed by the entire compound. But part of him didn't care. How could he possibly? With those eyelashes quaking on the rosy, too-perfect cheeks. With that hand stroking his cock ever so gently.

As he came, he suddenly remembered that innocent, searching gaze she had as their eyes met for the first time, how he had suddenly become aware of her breasts heaving even though she was breathing normally. Ever subtle nuance and tiny movement had all come into focus at once. Now he was lying on the floor, staring into his palm with its crescent moon shaped indents and semen dripping through his fingers, wet in the light of the moon. For a brief moment, he felt inexplicably calm.

In their room, Hinata was reading, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration, surrounded by a pool of light cast by their shared desk lamp. Sousuke slipped by him, wordlessly, flicking on the television as he passed it, even though he had no intention of watching anything in particular. The two would sit in silence for the remainder of the night, barely acknowledging each other's presence, but being comforted by it all the same.

"Are you okay?" Hinata asked warily, after a few moments had elapsed.

Sousuke put on his best bewildered expression. "Yeah," he responded, with a raised eyebrow.

Hinata stared at him for a few moments, concern and confusion etched on his small, feminine face. "Okay then," he finally said, returning to his book, although he seemed mildly distracted for the remainder of the night.

As Sousuke got into his futon later on, he saw that Hinata's back was turned to his, as they lay parallel to each other on the floor. We've been lying to each other a lot lately, he thought with a sigh. What's that all about?

That morning, Hinata left earlier than usual, shutting the door behind him as Sousuke, half-asleep, sat watching steam rise from the kettle, vaguely aware of the disruption in their routine. It was a strangely peaceful morning without Hinata, who never failed to trash their bedroom while getting ready and have them arrive late at the gates of the school, sweating and breathless. Sousuke felt a pang of anxiety shoot up from his stomach to his skull at the sight of his twin walking briskly out of the compound, without looking back. Things were changing rapidly around him and these routines were crumbling. When he knocked on Soujiro's door, his mother dutifully informed him that he too was long gone.

In class, Hinata had more energy than usual, but his lips grew taunt and white when at lunchtime he stood by the classroom window watching Hajime thumping a taiko drum enthusiastically below the third-year café. A girl's voice drifted out across the lawn to him, bewildered and embarrassed.

"He's confessing to her so publicly," he muttered disapprovingly. Soujiro hoisted himself up and unlatched the window to hear her response.

"Doesn't seem like she's going to accept," he responded nonchalantly as Hajime and the girl bellowed to each other from where they were stood.

Grinding his teeth, Hinata began to walk away, leaving the scene behind him, while Soujiro and Sousuke were gripped. Hajime's public display of affection had left them in awe, although they were mildly embarrassed at their spectator status and quietly prayed they wouldn't be seen gawking out the window. He was a regular at the café so that his actions were not all that surprising, even if the execution was. They stood until, satisfied, Hajime gathered up his things and darted off to his next class.

Hinata was found in the third year café, hanging off the girl like a tumor, chattering about tea infusions and apprehensively explaining the benefits of using tea leaves even though they were more expensive. He seemed mildly annoyed at the arrival of his twin and cousin, shooting them questioning looks across the room as he leaned across the counter. When Takahiro arrived with a delivery of supplies, Hinata darted over to take the box, staggering slightly under his weight as his handed the girl the invoice with his free hand. Sousuke watched this scene unfold with fascination. When she bent over the counter to sign her name he became acutely aware of the shape of her breasts straining against her shirt. The sight of a girl in the school's uniform was still something he couldn't get used to. Worst still, she seemed oddly occupied by the whole affair with Hajime and barely acknowledged Hinata as he hoisted the box up onto the counter, which only served to irritate him even further.

"Thank-you, Takahiro-senpai," she said sincerely, handing him back the invoice so that he could separate their copies, "but you really don't need to deliver during your lunch break! After school is fine."

He laughed, sheepishly. "I don't mind, Kouhai-chan."

Hinata, at this point, was seething. When the girl turned her back to steam milk and the sound of the coffee machine drowned out his unnecessary prattling, he slumped back to where Sousuke was sat, looking dejected.

Soujiro, pretending not to notice his cousin's expression, flipped open his sketchbook and began to draw fine, faint lines onto the pristine pages. Sousuke wished he had something to busy his hands with, and turned his face to the window.

"Hajime didn't come today," Hinata said in a small, hurt voice.

"No I expect not," Sousuke responded. "A confession is a lot to process and he won't want to seem too eager."

"Oh, well you seem to know a lot about it," Hinata snapped back.

Sousuke was startled. Involuntarily, his eyes met Hinata's. Although their irises were identical, Hinata's eyes were down turned and made him seem perpetually serene. They made him appear kind and deeply emotional, although all of this had vanished in his frustration. Instead Hinata seemed unhinged. The Hinata that almost everyone could read like a book was gone, and instead an impostor sat in the chair, dead-eyed and staring. Sousuke felt sick to his stomach and Soujiro glanced anxiously over open pages, his pencil pressed to the page so hard that chips of lead were breaking off and dirtying the picture in progress.

"The gingerbread latte?" a voice called out, pleasantly.

Sousuke looked up. There was the girl again, expertly balancing a tray on the palm of her hand, with a glass fully of milky, fragrant coffee and steaming teapot resting on top.

"Oh," Soujiro exclaimed, "that'd be mine."

She placed the coffee down on the table, glancing briefly at the unfinished sketch, and then turned to Sousuke.

"And an earl grey?"

He nodded. "Thank-you."

The words almost stuck in his throat and he panicked slightly, his escapades from the night before running through his head as if on a reel. The unopened kimono and sight of her bobbing head returned to him again in bright flashes, clear as a memory. Watching her from afar, he was fine, but he was beginning to feel clammy with her in such close proximity.

"What are you drawing, Soujiro-senpai?"

Soujiro glanced down at the sketchbook beneath him with faint surprise, almost as if it had appeared out of thin air.

"Well," he started, beginning to make sense of the faint lines, "it's the maple tree in our family compound."

Sousuke blanched at the coincidence.

"Oh, wow," she responded. Holding the tray behind her back, she bent down over Soujiro's shoulder, her chestnut hair falling across it like a curtain. "Show me when you're done, okay? I bet you're just as good as Touya-senpai!"

At that moment, Kyouya-sensei appeared, his stern face scoping the room from the moment he entered until he sat down with a forlorn sigh. The girl glanced up, eyes wide, and darted over to the coffee machine to begin frothing milk with frantic jerks of her arm.

Sousuke was too fascinated by Soujiro's drawing at this point and nervously cast his eye over it. It stood at the center of the compound and could be seen from all houses, graceful, hardy and abundantly-leaved, with its low-hanging branches that the children would hang off in the summer. The ground would soon be blanketed in scarlet, and it would be up to the three boys to rake the grounds together, like they did every year.

He didn't notice Hinata's wounded expression. His eyes stayed lock on Soujiro's shoulder, which had begun to move as his hand eagerly began to darken the faint lines and turn the barren page into a mass of detail. To anyone glancing at the three boys, it would seem like they were all focused on the sketch as it bloomed in front of them, but that was never the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay, guys! I wasn't sure what I was trying to achieve when I set out in this chapter as I started writing right off the back of the last one and I'm currently balancing more commitments than one human being should be handling at a single time. Thankfully, I'm a few days away from finishing all my coursework (and I'll be a fully qualified languages teacher! Yay!) and the busy period at work will be finishing pretty soon too so I'll have more than enough time to write!
> 
> I'm also pleased to tell you that Kouhai/Sousuke actions will begin in Chapter 3, as I now have a concrete plan for this fic. 
> 
> Although I'm not 100% satisfied with the pacing, lots of people gave Kudos last time around and I'm very grateful. Thank you to all of you for reading AND enjoying the first chapter! I hope you enjoy this one just as much! <3


	3. Unspoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kouhai finds a confidant in Sousuke while Hinata's behavior becomes increasingly erratic.

At the beginning of October, the long-forgotten heat of the summer had returned for one last hurrah. Sousuke awoke that morning long before the shrill ringing of the alarm clock could disturb him to discover that he was drenched in sweat and his bed sheets were a crumpled pile at his feet. He leaned against the wall of the shower, with the cold water soothing his hot skin, and thought, much to his own amusement, about archery club attendance. It was low at the best of times, but he knew today he would be alone out in the range.

Hinata wasn't in his futon when Sousuke returned, but instead sprawled out half-dressed on the floor. He had opened the window as far as it would go and fallen asleep again beneath it, letting the meager wind envelop him as he snoozed. Sousuke hesitated, and then quickly reset the alarm clock, grabbing his school things and sneaking out of the room, stealthily as a cat. He dressed in the spare room, looking out at the maple tree, and wondered what on earth he was trying to achieve.

He walked to school languorously that morning. It wasn't even seven thirty yet but Sousuke had a feeling that the third year café would be rammed full of students like him who had fought a battle through the night against the unexpected heat and hormonal congestion. The main thing was that Hinata wouldn’t be there to embarrass him so that he could enjoy his morning caffeine fix in peace. He hadn’t been back to the third year café much since the weather had cooled, purely due to the fact that every day now he had first years clinging to him, begging him to help them train. Every lunch time, he was down at the range, correcting their sloppy stances and making polite conversation with them. He had unwittingly become a paragon of sorts and he detested it, but continued nonetheless as it was a distraction from his own wandering thoughts.

By the time he had reached the café, Sousuke was feeling hot and dehydrated, so he ordered an iced tea before the girl could begin making up his usual drink. It didn’t matter how sparse his visits to her were, she never seemed to forget anyone’s drink.

"Oh, of course," she said distractedly, shooting him a cautious glance, "it's too hot today for tea today, isn't it?"

He didn't ponder the look she gave him. Instead he sluggishly made his way over to the nearest free table and soon found himself sandwiched between Izumi and Hideki-senpai, both frantically tearing through textbooks, with anxious expressions on their face. When Hideki's americano with hot milk arrived at the table, he peered over his glasses in surprise, as if suddenly remembering his surroundings and picked it up, with his free hand still clutching at the book in front of him.

"I heard that Viktor-sensei will be back before Halloween," he said, suddenly.

"Oh," Sousuke responded, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. "Well, at least you'll get more time to focus on your thesis."

Izumi glanced up. "Viktor-sensei is a good teacher."

"He's never here," Sousuke responded, "and we have college entrance exams coming up. He'll shoot off to Europe again when we need him the most."

The bespectacled boy wailed. "Don't remind me!" he moaned, glancing down at his textbook with burning hatred.

"It's okay, Izumi-kun, Kyouya-sensei is your home-room teacher," Hideki responded with an encouraging smile.

The three of them studied together in silence after this. Only Sousuke glanced up when Wakatoshi began roaring across the room to Kyouya-sensei about something. Bizarrely, the girl, who was usually the first person to jump in and stop these exchanges, sat by the counter, resting her small, pointed chin on her hand. Sousuke couldn't help but glance at her. Maybe the heat had gotten to her as well, he thought. He could barely stay focused on anything, right now, and just the thought of stepping between the two screaming males was enough to make him tired.

Her aloofness fascinated him. It was such a rare sight to see her so withdrawn. She was staring at the commotion with the indifference of a bored housewife waiting for the bus to arrive. He glanced at his companions curiously and wondered if they too harbored feelings for her or if they really did only come to the café to study, far removed from the stuffiness of the library with the musty smell that seemed to follow you out the door. Hideki was in college, and rubbed shoulders with girls all the time - when he wasn’t all ruffled like a startled hen he was a pretty good looking guy so probably had his fair share of invites to singles parties. And Izumi always seemed so wrapped up in books that Sousuke struggled to imagine him arm-in-arm with anyone, never mind someone of the opposite sex. Yet, the two of them had switched stations, even sacrificing precious study time to walk from the café to the library and back again. Sousuke felt uneasy thinking about it.

“It’s lively in there,” people always responded when he asked them why they went to the third year café, and yet they averted their gaze when they said it. For that reason, he never believed them.

\---

Archery practice ended late that afternoon. Once Sousuke realized that he had run over by half an hour, he bundled up his own things quickly and headed for the showers. Usually when he was out on the range by himself, Hinata would turn up once his own club had disbanded for the day and catapult him out of his archery-induced meditative trance, but Hinata was, mysteriously, nowhere to be found. 

Sousuke stood beneath the drizzling shower head and made an attempt to wash away all the uneasiness from the past day which had surfaced from his pores in the form of sweat. As long as he could get clean, he thought, the residue of the school day now passed couldn’t dog him any more. But the implications of Hinata’s absence was smeared onto him like grime and he couldn’t get rid of it. Where was he? What was he doing? Sousuke thought back to his brother’s deranged appearance in the café after Hajime’s unanticipated public confession. Each beat of the taiko drum seemed to have shunted his mind further and further into its shadowy recesses and Sousuke found that he couldn’t predict what his brother might do next.

He decided to check the club room, where Hinata whisked matcha green tea into a frothy beverage and doled it out on a daily basis, but no sooner did he reach the third floor stairwell when he saw a figure struggling at the top. With a clatter, a pair of bulky trash bags hit the ground, and the figure dashed off again, returning with two more. Sousuke hesitated, and then approached.

"Do you need a hand?" he asked. Before she responded, he hoisted up three trash bags with both hands while she stood there, watching him guardedly.

"Do you mind, Sousuke-senpai?" she asked, carefully.

He shook his head.

“Okay then,” she finally answered, picking up the last bag and beginning to descend the staircase ahead of him. “Thanks. It takes me forever on my own,” she stubbornly confessed, as an afterthought.

She stood on her tiptoes and hoisted up the lid of the industrial bin once she had unlocked the gate and he flung the trash bags in one by one. She was strong for such a small person to have managed all four from the café to the stairs, he thought. Even he had to steady himself before throwing them in, and he was meant to be an athlete.

"It must be hard," he said, brushing his hands on his trousers while she carefully closed the lid, "managing the café by yourself all the time." He knew she was in there three times a day, even serving coffees throughout her lunch break, but he had never given much thought to her menial duties. He imagined her cleaning down and stacking chairs on top of the tables at the end of the day; everyone seemed to enjoy ogling her but they soon vanished when there was work to be done.

She nodded, solemnly in response.

"Don't you want to join a club or something?"

"It's part of the arrangement," she responded. The two of them exited through the gate and she turned to lock it behind her with her own set of keys, adorned with a cute, pale blue pom-pom keyring. "I can't just go to an all-boy's school, after all. If I quit now, I'll have to go somewhere else and, well..." She hesitated. "This is a good opportunity. Private education might be the same as any other education, but the name gets you far."

He frowned. "I guess I never thought of it like that."

It was the truth. He had been fortunate. He had always failed to appreciate the remarkable clothes he was given because they were just clothes; the out-of-season, expensive foods too, because they were just food. These were necessities and he had never thought twice about their value. School was just school in his eyes, and it had never occurred to him that he would have better opportunities for it. He paused for a moment to dwell on it, by which point they were at the school gates.

"I'll see you around, anyway," Sousuke said, bowing to her slightly.

He didn't notice her eyes on his back. "Wait!" she cried out suddenly.

He turned, stunned.

"You and Hinata-senpai aren't much alike are you?" she said, finally. It wasn’t a statement; her intense stare made that clear. She wanted an answer from him and he was beginning to feel horribly self-concious. His face was growing hot and he prayed that she couldn’t detect him blushing.

He wasn't even sure how to respond. "I... I don't know. I guess not."

She bit her bottom lip and gave him a desperate look. "Listen, can you wait here while I just get my stuff? I think I'm going the same way as you and... I need to talk to you about something."

He found himself nodding slowly at her request. His heart started to throb beneath his shirt and curiosity gnawed at his insides. He had a crush on her - he knew that much - but it hadn't occurred to him that he would ever find himself alone with her. Taking out the trash was one thing - he would have helped anyone do the same - but walking her home was something easily romanticized and as she ran up to the first floor to collect her things, he wondered what on earth it meant for him.

As they walked, he watched her turn her head fearfully towards the school gates several times out of his peripheral vision. She was undeniably apprehensive. The way she carried herself, with her arms folded beneath her chest and her eyes darting around gave him the impression that she was scared.

"What's your name?" he asked, finally.

She told him, without looking in his direction. "But everyone just calls me Kouhai-chan for some reason. Even the teachers. So you better call me that, or else no one will know who you're talking about." She laughed bitterly, and then stopped. The silence that fell was so ominous that Sousuke was unable to break it. "Something happened today," she told him finally.

Their eyes met. Fierce and determined beneath her long bangs, she searched his own before continuing.

"Your brother," she said quietly, "put something weird in my drink."

He felt his body go numb - so numb that his legs stopped moving altogether. A cold sensation was billowing out from his chest and had more or less paralysed him. He had only felt this was in novelty haunted houses at the funfair when a mechanized mannequin began moving unexpectedly, or when he was jolted awake from a nightmare. That little bastard, he thought to himself. In the last few weeks he had convinced himself something was seriously wrong with Hinata, but Sousuke didn't think for a second he would spring into action.

"A drug?" he asked. The word alone terrified him but he had to ask. She had stopped walking too.

"I don't know, but I saw him do it. When he noticed me he ran out of the café, like he knew he had done something seriously wrong. There was no one else there but the two of us and I haven't seen him since. This was at lunchtime. Izumi told me he wasn't in any of his afternoon classes."

That coward, Sousuke thought. He felt his face contort in anger and humiliation.

Almost comforted by his reaction, the girl turned her body to face him fully. "Sousuke-senpai," she said desperately, "I don't know what to do. He's been acting weird for a while now. He has this crazy, vacant look in his eye-"

Sousuke found himself nodding firmly. His lips grew taunt, taking the form of a grimace, but he managed to speak. "I've seen that."

"You have? Oh thank god!" She looked like she was on the verge of tears. "It's terrifying. I feel like I'm being watched. I'm sure he's following me. I don't know what to do," she repeated frantically, "I know I can look after myself, but I've never had to deal with anything like this before."

Sousuke hesitated. "I'm sure he's harmless, deep down, he's just a bit... obsessed." There was no sincerity in his voice; only hope.

She grabbed his arm and he felt an electric current drive up and down the side of his body like a pinball. She had clocked his hesitation straight away. He felt like an idiot. "Tell me the truth," she demanded, calmly.

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds. His mind was spinning.

He spoke her name softly. She was scared. Determined, but scared. He didn't know what to do either.

"I... I don't know any more," he responded finally. "He changed."

She let go of his arm, looking forlorn and began to walk ahead, with her head bowed. He followed up the cobbled street until the school vanished behind them. They were silent and thoughtful, watching the gentle autumn wind blow the leaves, all of varying degrees of colour, from orange to scarlet to pink, across their field of vision, until they reached an apartment block about twenty minutes away from the compound.

"This is me," she said quietly.

He glanced up. A row of tiny apartments looked down at him, grey and lifeless like a silent film. He was suddenly fearful that she lived alone, although he had the feeling deep down that it was a difficult subject, and instead scoped the area for the face that matched his own, except flanked by a mass of long hair. Hinata was, thankfully, nowhere to be seen.

"I'll do something about Hinata," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I'll skip archery practice for the next few days and keep an eye out in the café for you."

She looked like she was about to protest, but he interjected. "I'm a national champion," he told her, "and I'm tired of it all anyway. My priority should be making sure my brother doesn't do anything stupid."

"...Do you think he will?"

Sousuke sighed. "I don't know any more. I'm meant to know him better than anyone. I’m going to have to inform my father."

Gently, she took his hand. "Thank-you, Sousuke-senpai."

He was moved deeply by the tender gesture, and watched as she made her way up the stairs and into one of the apartments. He waited around for a few moments, and then continued walking. His pace built up to a march and before he knew it, he was dashing through the compound, ignoring the calls of Soujiro's mother who sat sewing on the steps of her house.

Hinata was in their room. Without hesitation, Sousuke grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the ground in one swift movement. He was thankful, in that moment that he was an athlete after all, while Hinata's only skill was memorizing complex traditions. The older twin could only struggle under his weight.

"I've just been speaking to Kouhai-chan," Sousuke said menacingly. "And what do you think she told me?"

He let go of Hinata's throat. He tried to sit up, spluttering, but Sousuke knocked him back down again, warning him not to move. Hinata let out a cry and looked up at Sousuke fearfully.

"I didn't do anything, I swear!"

At that moment, Sousuke was hoisted up into the air suddenly. He wasn't sure at first who was pinning him back, so he struggled violently, but the familiar sight of the white sleeves belonging to the uniform they all shared made him calm down. He wanted to slap Hinata silly, but Soujiro hadn't done anything wrong.

"What's going on?" Soujiro demanded, twisting his face to look at Sousuke, "my mother just came into the house wailing because you walked past her looking like you were about to murder someone. Hinata, what in god's name did you do?"

"Nothing! I did nothing!"

The older twin had lifted himself up into a sitting position and protectively curled himself up into a ball, making himself seem smaller and more defenseless than ever.

"You little bastard," Sousuke growled, "she told me everything! You decided that following her around like a dog wasn't enough so you thought slipping her a drug would make her want you-"

Soujiro let go instantly, and Sousuke pounced, throwing punches while Hinata shielded his face, using only his hands to block his brother's onslaught.

"Sousuke, that's enough," Soujiro said, after a few seconds had elapsed.

Sousuke did as he was told, and retreated.

"Are you talking about the girl in the café?" his cousin asked him, quietly. Barely suppressing his rage, Sousuke could only nod.

Much to his surprise, Soujiro began to laugh coldly at the trembling boy on the floor. "You're pathetic, Hinata. Really, truly pathetic. Come on, Sousuke. We're leaving."

Soujiro wrapped a brotherly arm around Sousuke’s shoulder and marched him out of the twins’ home and into his own. After Sousuke had meekly apologized to his aunt, he retreated to his cousin’s bedroom, where Soujiro opened up his sketchpad and passed it to him, wearing a sheepish expression as he did so.

The sketch was complete: the maple tree, in all its glory, had been reduced to dark, intricate lines, both colourless and breathtaking. The branches spread like open palms across the white page. The sturdy trunk and myriad of leaves were awash with hidden messages; kanji invading the organic, speaking when the tree could not. Each symbol was only slightly larger than a pinprick and barely perceptible, had Sousuke’s fine-tuned sub-conscious not processed them. He was stunned.

“That tree,” Soujiro said, “reminds me of her. Everything revolves around her, the way that everything that goes on in this compound revolves around that tree.”

Sousuke looked up at him in awe.

“Hinata’s my cousin,” Soujiro continued sadly, “but I feel like I have to protect her. This changes everything. You do realize that?”

The two boys looked at each other silently. The rest was left unspoken. Numbly, Sousuke nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this out! I haven't forgotten about this fic, I've just had a really hectic and strange couple of months. I just downed a gin and lemonade and decided to get cracking because you guys have been so lovely leaving me kudos and I really didn't want the time I've invested in the planning of this fic to go to waste, especially because these characters are so much fun to play with. I finally have a decent app that allows me to write from my boyfriend's house as well as on my home computer and better yet, the first draft of chapter four is pretty much done. So thank you again guys for your patience! Have a wonderful day/night, wherever you are!


	4. Rust and Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After night at the compound spirals into violence, will Sousuke be able to keep hold of the blossoming bond he has with his kouhai, or will he be usurped by another suitor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: there are some potentially triggering themes in this chapter, so steer clear if domestic violence or violence in general are no-nos for you.

Sousuke spent that night at his cousin’s house, dutifully helping his capacious aunt grate the winter radishes while Soujiro fried pieces of shrimp. The atmosphere in the kitchen was unexpectedly jovial, despite the two boys silently stewing in the knowledge what Hinata had done that day. They glanced towards each other across the kitchen with disconcerted expressions; out the window, the maple tree arched its branch accusingly in the direction of Sousuke’s own home, where the sound of chopsticks would be drowning out any meager attempts at conversation. Sousuke had swiftly removed himself from the picture, vaguely aware that there was an element of blame-dodging, of responsibility-shirking, to it. As Hinata’s twin brother - as the person who had vowed to protect him and shield him from harm - Sousuke was a failure. But Soujiro’s home was lively and loving by comparison - how could Sousuke resist?

Over the sound of sesame oil sizzling and spitting on the hob, Soujiro’s mother relayed all of the tiny melodramas that had presented itself throughout her day - how she pricked her finger while sewing an intricate pattern on a baby’s blanket and how the leaves of the maple tree had become a veritable tripping hazard on her veranda where she liked to relax. She was a seamstress by day and had a steady influx of customers who ambled into the compound, astonished at its grandeur and impressed by Soujiro’s calligraphy, which adorned every wall in the house. Conveying their bemusement to her family over dinner was one of her favourite past-times and she was delighted to have Sousuke in her audience. Despite the uneasiness that was wrecking havoc on his insides, giving him psychosomatic nausea, Sousuke laughed heartily and the hours passed uneventfully in a steady, focused stream.

Eventually, Sousuke and Soujiro descended the steps leading into the courtyard and made their way towards Sousuke’s home. His father was perched on the top step, billowing cigarette smoke into the night and surrounded by a herd of loutish middle-aged men. They were all dressed informally in yukatas, fanning themselves on the veranda and clutching cans of beer, relishing the phantom summer that had disrupted the flow of October. Drunkenly, they called out to the boys as they approached and Sousuke could have sworn he saw a glint of approval in his father’s ordinarily damning eyes at the sight of Soujiro, who, for the most part, was the pride of the compound.

Hinata was inside, in a trance-like state, completely absorbed by the steam rising from the chamomile tea he held. Untouched homework lay on the desk the boys shared. He blanched when he saw his brother enter the bedroom, and hugged the mug closer to his chest, averting his gaze towards the window. Far from hatred at this point, Sousuke felt enough pity to swallow him whole at the sight of his brother’s palpable fear. Wordlessly, he packed an overnight bag and exited the house without looking back. Soujiro was still stood, surrounded by the drunk, yukata clad men on the veranda, talking about an upcoming exhibition he was to be featured in. 

While Sousuke waited for Soujiro to end the conversation, he thought about Kouhai-chan, trembling at the school gates, and consciously tried to divert the flow of sympathy he was feeling for Hinata as it began trickling back into his brain. Obsessing over someone was one thing, but spiking them was beyond redemption, he thought to himself, logically. He was so horrified by the thought of Hinata with fists full of capsules or baggies of powder, hovering above the simmering tea like an ominous cloud, that he hadn’t even considered what Hinata’s endgame might have been. 

“Did he say anything?” Soujiro asked, grimacing as they walked away.

“No,” Sousuke responded honestly, shifting the bag from one shoulder to the other, “he didn’t even look at me.”

Hinata wasn’t at the café the next morning. The heat still prickled at Sousuke’s skin and even though the weather had cooled off significantly, it had still cost him another night of sleep. Despite battling drooping lids, he and Soujiro had agreed to keep an eye on the girl as she busied herself with the morning crowd, avoiding their gaze as she did so. When her customers began filtering out and she finally removed her cotton apron, twisting the sign on the door to signal the café’s closure, the pair stood up and attentively offered to walk her to her first class. She accepted, with some trepidation, and the three of them descended to the first floor where the first years took their classes.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly, toying with her red tie as she stood at the entrance of the classroom.

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think he’ll try anything with so many people about,” Sousuke said softly, “but we want you to know that we’re taking this seriously.”

Soujiro’s eyes glistened with unspoken devotion as he nodded in agreement. She gave them both a grateful look but her gaze lingered on Sousuke’s stoic features just a little longer, before she tenderly took his hand and squeezed it. The two boys stood there, dumbly enraptured by her gentleness and in awe of her sincerity. The feelings they knowingly shared clamped around them even tighter, unfaltering bonds that they couldn’t snake out of. Sousuke couldn’t remember if the hand that had touched him so intimately in his fantasy was as tender as the one that she extended to him now. 

When his classes had ended for the day, Sousuke’s classmates stood in clusters, babbling senselessly to each other about this or that, while he gathered his things and moved stealthily towards the third year café. Sousuke was by no means isolated by his peers; he tended to stick with his own relatives for the sake of convenience, but no one clocked his swift entrance out of the doors, nor did anyone notice him trail off in the opposite direction of the archery range. This worked for him. His priorities had surpassed the act of fixing his teammate’s sloppy postures. Attendance was only mandatory on select days, so his absence was excusable albeit notable, for he was usually there every single day without fail. His father certainly wouldn't approve of him skipping, especially now that Sousuke's weekends were dedicated to vigorous studying for college entrance exams, but how would he even know?

He took what was now his usual seat in the corner of the room, which gave him the optimum view of the café floor. He knew exactly who was about to waltz in, as he was positioned directly across from the door, which had a glass frame looking out into the corridor. The only downside was that it slightly obscured his view of the girl, who stood behind the counter, absently flexing her fingers, with a gaze concentrated on the influx of customers as she waited for Hinata to emerge.

Plenty of students reluctantly took takeaway coffees and headed to their individual club meetings while the others buzzed around her like flies. Her façade was beginning to slip slightly, he noticed, as she seemed to resent the attention and brushed most of the students off with a half-smile. Her eyes were perennially glued to the door, and even as she steamed the milk, he knew she was looking over her shoulder to see who was entering and who was leaving.

For the second day in a row, he walked her home, after helping her flip the chairs over and onto the tables while she swept the floor around him. Crisp autumn leaves carried by a gentle breeze peppered the pavement where they walked parallel to each other in silence; she had her arms folded beneath her chest as always, while he left his hands in his pockets. The clouds rolled across the lilac sky in shades of dusky pink, only disrupted by a flock of unidentified birds. She watched them with faraway eyes.

“You should talk to someone if the attention bothers you,” he said, wincing as the voice that emerged from his mouth was condescending at best.

She shook her head sadly. “I just wish my grandma was still here.”

\---

That evening, Sousuke and Hinata cooked together as usual, communicating as little as possible while their father poured over his notes on the family history. He intended to write a book on the subject, but whether or not this was feasible with his destructive appreciation for Japanese whiskies, Sousuke was unsure. He rolled up his sleeves, and began plating up the meal, trying to remember if his father had ever finished anything. His marriage had ended, he had more-or-less given up on fatherhood, and had never kept a job for very long, either. As the twins took their seats and their father began putting away the notes, Sousuke felt like he had just had an epiphany as to why his father was so adamant that he should continue with archery. 

“So,” their father began, casting a critical eye over the meal he had been presented, “how was your day?”

“It was okay,” Sousuke responded noncommittally. 

“Mm,” Hinata murmured, picking at his food. 

“It’s your day off tomorrow so I’d like to see you boys out raking the leaves if you find the time. They’re becoming a nuisance.” 

Sousuke nodded without eagerness. “I’ll tell Soujiro.”

Sousuke knew his standing with his father was flimsy at best. Although he was undoubtedly the favourite between himself and Hinata, he knew he was far from being ideal. His appearance, like Hinata’s, lacked the masculine bravado of his father’s stalwart build. The boys were cursed with grace - slender and pale like women, although Sousuke had the slightly more athletic edge. Both struggled to grow facial hair and instead had smooth, chiseled faces, translucent and sharp like moonbeams. To add insult to injury, the boys and their father existed on separate spheres: where their father demanded, the boys asked politely, and while their father blustered and roared, they were composed. While their father historically held no disdain for men like them, the betrayal of his wife made it so he criticised them more harshly, lest they turn out like her.

“How was your training today, Sousuke?” his father continued.

Sousuke paused. His lie was already calculated, he just wanted to appear natural. “It was fine. Some of the first-years are getting really good. They could be competing soon enough.”

His father nodded approvingly and began shoveling food into his mouth, but before Sousuke could breath a sigh of relief, he noticed Hinata staring at him across the table.

“You weren’t at archery practice today,” he said, solemnly.

“What?” Sousuke asked dumbly. “Yes I was.”

Hinata shook his head. “I waited for you. You weren’t there. You were with her.”

Sousuke could feel the blood draining from his face. He couldn’t look at his father; he just continued peering across the table at Hinata, whose face was mask-like and eerie. How did he know he was with her? 

“Is this true, Sousuke?” his father grunted.

Sousuke put his hands on the table and looked down at them. Even when his father repeated his name, getting progressively more irate, he couldn’t bring himself to answer. How had he known? It was easy enough to gauge that he hadn’t been at training but as far as he was aware, Hinata had been at his own club meeting and nowhere near the third year café. 

“Sousuke!”

Suddenly, Sousuke felt someone lift him out of his chair by the scruff of his shirt and he hit the walls of the kitchen with an almighty thud. The framed picture above him clattered noisily. Dazed, Sousuke worried that it would fall onto him and he would have to find the energy to catch it. It was one of Soujiro’s works, commissioned by the boys’ mothers when they were all in elementary school, although you could easily mistake it for something made by an adult. It simply read “prosperity”. He closed his eyes and slumped, when his father grabbed him again, this time by the collar.

“Have you been skipping archery practice?” he asked, quietly, grinding his teeth menacingly only inches away from Sousuke’s face.

Sousuke looked up with bleary, unfocused eyes. All he could do was stare ruefully into his father’s baleful, monstrous countenance and move his lips without making a sound. He must have hit his head when he was thrown. He knew that if he really attempted to vocalize, he would start coughing and spluttering. The pain in his back was beginning to fade after the collision, but he could still barely stand and was hoping to stall with a remorseful look before he needed to begin explaining himself.

That was when his father flung him back, tired of his silence. Almost as soon as he hit the floor, Sousuke’s father began pummeling him with violent kicks. And all Sousuke could think about was that damn picture on the wall, still swinging violently. With each hate-filled blow, he bit back the hapless moans that were forming in his throat. And then he heard something snap. Pain seared through his body. He couldn’t breathe. As he blacked out, he saw Hinata, pressed against the wall at the other side of the room. His eyes were frantic and he was as white as a sheet.

\---

The world was tinged sea-green. Sousuke felt like he was underwater.

Everything was murky and grimy like the entire compound was a shipwreck. He kept rubbing his eyes to correct his vision, but the problem wasn’t his: the dream landscape was flawed and nightmarish. It wouldn’t fix itself until he woke up.

Sousuke’s fear was not because of the uncanny tranquility of the scene; he knew there was nothing lurking in the shadows, because the true horror was right in front of him. Hinata’s face was warped and distorted - hardly a face at all. He was ripping flowers from the ground at their stems and fixing them together to make a flower crown. Spread out on a picnic blanket, beneath the maple tree, were all the utensils of his twisted tea party. His guests were trembling.

At the base of the tree, to Sousuke’s right, was Kouhai-chan. Her face was so pallid that it became phosphorescent, illuminated by the dirty emerald water. When Hinata gestured to her, she bowed her head hesitantly and he placed his finished crown on top of her chestnut curls. To Sousuke’s right sat Soujiro, whose face lacked any expression but whose eyes, locked on Hinata’s contorted figure, blazed with contempt.

Hinata reached out for a teapot and poured wet sludge out into four cups. All three guests stared at the muddy concoction, paralyzed with fear. The tea ceremony had barely begun.

\---

Sousuke was bedridden for a week and was unable to return to school for a further two more. He barely slept, either gasping for breath or writhing in pain throughout the long, agonising nights. Whenever he did manage to catch an hour, he dreamt of that sickening underwater scene, although he was never asleep for long enough to taste the slimy substance in the teacups, which was both a blessing and a curse. 

“Kyouya-sensei is driving her home after school,” Soujiro said, when he arrived home on Monday afternoon. “He doesn’t know the full story apparently but the teachers aren’t blind. They know she’s vulnerable to that sort of attention.”

The cousins were now living together. Soujiro’s mother heard the commotion as she sat on the veranda, finishing up her sewing for the day. Owing to how contained the family was, the manner was handled privately and swiftly. Sousuke was quickly removed from the household, and Hinata almost was too until Soujiro revealed everything to his parents while Sousuke rested. 

His ribs were yet to fully heal by the time he returned to school, but Sousuke was adamant that he needed to return to his normal daily life if he was ever going to get out of the hole he had been flung into. His time in recovery had been mind-numbingly dull and his brain nagged him for stimulation. He had taken to sitting outside with his aunt as she sewed, but when the weather took a drastic turn for the worse, he was stuck indoors once again, watching the rain pummel the glass panels. The only times he didn’t think of the girl was when he had to focus in order to steady his breathing, which gradually became less haggard and painful as the weeks passed.

He saw her as he was putting away his shoes that morning, descending the staircase having just closed the café for the morning. She shot him a curious look and he raised his hand to wave. He half-smile he gave her was tinged with shame and his heart began throbbing painfully in his chest. The marks on his face had healed but he still felt like an open book. She looked like she was about to approach him, with her brows knotted in concern, but her own classmates hurried her onward to their classroom and she moved off, turning her head one last time as if to assure herself that he was back.

He didn’t go to the café that lunchtime, nor did he go after school, instead spending the afternoon as a spectator for the archery club. 

Despite abstaining from club activities himself, Sousuke was still the last person at the archery range, polishing the school’s lackluster bows as the day faded. Streaks of orange and pink lined the sky above him with the onset of twilight. He was struggling to see what he was doing. Sighing deeply, he began putting the bows back in their respective bags and hauled them over to the storage shed, wondering what things would be like once he got back to the compound.

When he exited the shed, he found himself stealing an involuntary glance towards the third year café. Golden light emanated from the windows, creating a stark contrast with the rapidly darkening sky. That’s strange, he thought to himself, glancing at his phone to gauge the time. It was too late for the café to be open. He glanced back up at the window. It was like a beacon, calling to him. Maybe she was doing a stock check or putting away a delivery? Maybe she was behind with the cleaning up? Maybe… she was too afraid to leave?

He dodged the janitor, who was absently mopping up the hallways in time to the music emanating from his earphones, and slipped up the stairs until he reached the third floor. He chest was hurting again and a cold sweat broke out across his whole body as he approached the door. Yes: the lights were still on - Sousuke could see that same golden hue caressing the hallway through the window on the door. He was nervous and reminded of every thought he had ever had along the spectrum of the innocent and sexual, and found himself debating whether or not to approach. His father was right about him - Sousuke had no backbone. At least Hinata was trying.

Sousuke became faintly annoyed at himself. If he turned away now, it would be a missed opportunity. She would never ask him to walk her home again after his mysterious absence. She had a teacher on her side now, and they were infinitely powerful. He craved this girl, more than he had craved any film star or girl in the street, but he wanted to know her too.

Tentatively, he reached out and grasped the doorknob, but before his mind could catch up, he had moved it away in such a violent, quick motion that he felt the air swish around him. The image in front of him through the window of the third year café would become seared into the back of his eyelids but in that moment he couldn't make sense of it.

Sat up on the counter, where she was usually stood making coffees, was the girl, her feet dangling down and her head thrust upwards. Stood between her parted legs, with one hand holding her face and his lips moving up her neck, was none other than Kyouya-sensei, instantly recognizable in his dark suit. The embrace was intimate and sensual. He could hear her faint gasps and moans through the door and he watched her eyelashes flutter on her cheeks in unabashed pleasure. She had a hand on his shoulder, urgently digging her nails into him. Sousuke backed away against the wall.

Thank god, he found himself thinking, thank god Hinata isn't here to see this.

He dashed down the corridor, praying that his hurried steps wouldn't be noticed by the pair locked in their embrace in the third year café; praying that when he returned home he could reassemble his nerves and appear somewhat normal. Hinata’s face flashed in his mind, over and over again, distorted and warped, as in the underwater dream. Thank god, he repeated to himself, like a mantra, drowning out the thoughts of what Hinata might have done if he had witnessed the scene instead of Sousuke. Thank god. __

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's rare for me to get two chapters out in such a short space of time, but I bumped this fanfic up on my priorities list a couple of days ago so there won't be any month-long gaps any more! Promise! I now know for definite that it'll be twelve chapters and I know exactly what is going to happen in each so all I've got to do is sit down and turn it from bullet points into into a story. 
> 
> I am thinking of writing a Hinata one-shot at some point in the future, just to salvage his character for me because this story has really altered my viewpoint of him. If you're a Hinata lover, my sincerest apologies for butchering his character and ignoring all signs of progression for him in-game. The twins are my favourite senpai (although I do like Sousuke a teeny tiny bit more) so I promise it's not an attack on him, it's just the way the story turned out hahaha.
> 
> Thank you if you've made it this far - I'm having so much fun with these characters that it's just a pleasure to be able to write really. Your comments mean the world to me though (especially you, Gooman!), as do the kudos and the views, so thank you again! Hope you all had a wonderful Valentine's Day with your senpai and see you next time!


	5. Infusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After witnessing the object of his affections in the arm of another man, Sousuke returns to the compound, where he discovers that his troubles are only just beginning.

By the time Sousuke reached the halfway point between the school and the compound, he turned the corner and almost waltzed right into his flustered cousin, whose hurried, mildly anxious stride matched his own. Soujiro's eyes, when they clamped on Sousuke's pallid face, widened in surprise, but he quickly readjusted himself and turned around so the two boys walked side-by-side in silence.

Soujiro had clearly just returned from the gallery; he was dressed in his brown, leather jacket complete with a cream-coloured turtle-neck, which combined, gave him the aura of an effortlessly chic modern artist. He must have dropped his tool bag of ink-stained brushes back home and then left immediately to find Sousuke. His silence and wild eyes seemed to imply that he was a man far too stunned by his own senseless panic to feel meaningfully relieved. If anything, he appeared to feel shame.

"I was polishing the archery equipment," Sousuke murmured, remorsefully. He hadn't wanted his extended family to worry on his behalf about Hinata or more specifically, what Hinata might do. That was his job.

The accident of Sousuke's birth was out of a loveless marriage, wherein no child was ever meant to thrive, so fate had rushed out two, dark-haired baby boys as opposed to one and burdened them with each other. Their duties went beyond what was expected of ordinary siblings. They were partnered to play a myriad of roles - brother, friend, father, carer, puppet and puppeteer. Sousuke had influenced Hinata from the womb - had indirectly crept into Hinata's brain, perceiving the things that Hinata could not and sharing these observations with him. Hinata had done the same. And somewhere down the line, both of them had failed in their destiny-encrusted duties. Sousuke had walked hand-in-hand with Hinata along a divided plain, in which he traversed a frigid, emotionless existence while his brother's became marred by temptation. If Sousuke had searched hard enough, he would have been able to spot the twisted brambles underfoot, the lifeless sky and the decaying foliage of Hinata's strange, sinister world. Instead, Sousuke focused on what was in front of him. It was like a target. He had invested all of his focus into it, and moved forward with a narrow perspective.

Sousuke habitually regarded himself and Hinata as the same person split in two; two individuals borne of one identity and sharing a single world view. He had been wrong, and now others were suffering for his own failure. Maybe if he had loved Hinata better - if he had shown it to him just once - this wouldn't have happened. Or maybe his brother's jealousy was due to the fact that, for the first time in Hinata's life, he wasn't prepared to share this girl with anyone - especially not the person who had the gall to take his face and call it his own. Sousuke would forfeit his own life if it meant that Hinata could live a better life, but this was no longer at the forefront of Sousuke's mind. He would have forfeited his own life and Hinata's too if it meant that Kouhai-chan could be happy.

He swallowed and turned to look at Soujiro. He wanted to convey what he had witnessed in the café without words, but it was difficult. Sousuke had always been in awe of Kyouya-sensei; always felt deep down that he would become an adult just like him. If Kyouya wanted to jeopardize his job for a teenage girl, then that was his decision, and Sousuke was too emotionally drained to start playing god with other people's lives. The girl was clearly consenting; she had made her decision. Still, jealousy clawed at his innards like gnashing teeth and it urged him to speak to someone. That person would ordinarily be Hinata.

Evening had fallen by the time the two boys arrived back in the compound. The vibrant, orange clouds of dusk had become dark, haggard shapes in the sky, obscuring a tiny, round moon. The anxiety of Sousuke's extended family was palpable as he entered the house, although they all made significant attempts to mask it. Sousuke was on the verge of turning eighteen after all, and they didn't want to appear domineering. His independence only made things worse, though.

The news of Hinata's indiscretion had been received badly by Soujiro's mother in particular, who now suspected their father of harboring a psychopath while the chivalrous son suffered. It was her nature to treat the daily goings-on of the compound as if it were a real life soap opera, and she was anxiously awaiting the matter to come to a head in a chaotic and climactic finale. Much to Sousuke's surprise, he was the only person who seemed to regard Hinata's actions as out-of-character.

Lying on their stomachs on the tatami mats, Sousuke and Soujiro began working on their homework, but their minds were fitful and sporadically, they would turn to the other to halfheartedly converse about something insignificant. Both hearts ached with the need to lay out all the cards on the table and have a meaningful conversation, but for some reason neither could communicate. Sousuke didn't consider the fact that the issue might be himself.

Suddenly determined, he stood up. "I'm going to go across and collect the rest of my things," he said. He only had necessities with him at the house. Soujiro's father had grabbed what he could while Sousuke's father roared in indignation just centimeters away from his ear. Both were children of the compound - brothers - and they knew how gossip spread like wildfire above the tatami mats in every home there.

Soujiro nodded eagerly. "I'll come with you."

Thankfully, Sousuke's father was nowhere to be seen when the two boys pried open the door and entered the house. The house was as silent as a tomb. It made Sousuke feel sick to his stomach.

"Hinata must be around somewhere," Soujiro whispered.

The two stealthily made their way to the bedroom that Sousuke and Hinata had shared, hesitating momentarily before entering. Neither boy was particularly scared of Hinata; but the eventual encounter between the three of them loomed overhead in the form of a juicy, ominous cloud ready to burst and pelt them all. Not one of them would leave unscathed; it was going to be awkward and emotional and Sousuke dreaded it. He hadn’t seen his brother since he was beaten by his father. He was still ashamed at how fast he had crumbled.

Miraculously, the room was empty, but Sousuke was as rigid as he would have been with Hinata inside of it. Everything was in a disarray; empty bottles lined the wall in order of height, clothes lay crumpled on the ground and dirty plates were stacked high, threatening to topple. With some trepidation, Sousuke reached out and picked up his brother’s favourite sweater from where it lay haphazardly on the ground. He clutched the violet material in his hands and began to walk around, tramping foil packets underfoot as he went. Half of the clothes left inside Sousuke’s cupboard had been cut up with scissors, and the cadaverous remains lay in a heap by the wardrobe door. A handful of his books were splayed open on the desk and when he picked them up, he noticed that the pages had been sliced into ribbons.

Without speaking, Soujiro carried the dirty plates and mugs out of the room, leaving Sousuke to pack in peace. The sound of water running and plates clattering carried from the kitchen throughout the house. Sousuke grimaced at his wardrobe and began to sift through it to see what he could salvage.

Sousuke was distracted, however. The door had been left unlocked and yet no one had come to greet them when they entered. He had a suspicion that Hinata was hiding somewhere, crouched in a corner with his eyes clamped shut, praying for them to leave. The sick feeling in his stomach hadn’t diminished either. Sousuke was suddenly filled with longing to see his brother, and turned away from the wardrobe, intent on seeking him out.

He walked past Soujiro, who was elbow deep in washing up, and gave him a half-smile. “Have you seen Hinata?” he asked. His voice that left his mouth was strained and high-pitched.

Soujiro shook his head. “I haven’t seen anyone. It’s a bit weird, don’t you think? The house wouldn’t be open if there was no one here.”

Sousuke checked his father’s bedroom first, but no one was there. This was not surprising. Sousuke’s father had been absent from the compound more frequently as of late, and spent most of his time out in bars with his buddies. Sousuke didn’t want to know what these evening outings entailed. Then he headed to the spare room. Again, the lights were off and the room was empty. Hinata was nowhere to be found.

Baffled, Sousuke shut the door firmly behind him. Something was really wrong. In his peripheral vision, he saw the bathroom door was wide open and the light from it was illuminating the corridor. He ambled over and reached in to turn the light off, but that’s when he stopped, because he had finally found his brother.

Hinata was partially submerged in the bath and fully clothed with the sleeves of his hakama rolled up to his elbows. A broken razor lay on the rug, bent completely out of shape and with its blade torn out. Said blade was now resting on the side of the tub and scarlet blood was rising from Hinata’s wrists, spiraling to the surface in clouds. Sousuke was oddly fascinated by the beauty of the scene. With Hinata’s form at the center of it, it reminded him of the first time he saw tea leaves infuse hot water in a glass teapot, slowly discolouring the water to a pretty shade of amber. Except the bathwater was turning a diluted shade of pink around Hinata and when Sousuke finally came to, he felt nothing but abject horror.

“Soujiro!” he roared. “Call an ambulance! Now!”

Sousuke closed the gap in seconds and hauled his brother out of the bath from behind. The weight in his arms seemed to be comprised of Hinata’s dark indigo hakama and little else. He clutched at the sodden material in his hands, suddenly fearful that his brother was shrinking and fading away right before his eyes. Affectionately, he brushed the damp raven hair out of his eyes and bit back the hysterical sobs that were rising from his throat. Once he had placed Hinata’s head on his lap, he finally began inspecting his brother’s wrists. Among the flesh and blood, he could see glimpses of bone where the razor had dug deep.

Soujiro peered into the room clutching his cell phone and turned ashen when he saw the splatters of blood reflecting light on the white tiles around the two boys. He was so stunned that he didn’t make a noise, and felt his blood run cold with dread. Sousuke was crouched over his brother in the middle of the room, while Hinata lay lifelessly on the floor resting his head on his younger brother’s knees. With shaking hands, Soujiro began typing numbers into his cell while Sousuke frantically searched for something to use as a tourniquet.

From his position on Sousuke’s lap, Hinata began to stir. Their eyes met as Soujiro dashed out of the room to retrieve strips of fabric from what had once been Sousuke’s clothing. A stiff smile appeared on Hinata’s face before he passed out.

\---

Sousuke began to avoid the girl at the café after that. He knew that he adored her and never once blamed her for what had happened that night, even though her appearance at the school was undoubtedly the catalyst for Hinata’s break-down, but she reminded him so succinctly of how he had almost lost the other half to his whole that the mere sight of her had become almost synonymous with it and thus unbearable. If that was what unrequited love had done to Hinata, then Sousuke certainly didn’t want to be the person who swarmed in and took her from him.

Only a handful of people knew about Hinata’s suicide attempt; the majority were faculty members, so he moved through the next week in a silent stupor beneath Soujiro’s wing, unable to convey to his classmates why exactly he couldn’t communicate with them like a normal human being. The grief at almost losing Hinata and trauma of the bloody scene was seeping in slowly but surely and on more than one occasion, Sousuke blacked out completely, staring dead-eyed into space, unmoving and unthinking. He had taken to sitting up on the rooftop with his knees tucked under his chin and staring at the sky, now drained of all its colour as November tumbled in, fruitlessly trying to prise some kind of spiritual epiphany from it. One of Soujiro's classmates, Ren, had even taken to slumbering beside him; often too lethargic to question Sousuke's gloomy presence. The boys were passing acquaintances but a friendship was beginning to emerge through the few toneless conversations that they had. It was one of the few comforts Sousuke could take from that period in his life.

It was a vicious circle. Sometimes the girl would dance in the eye of his mind, all lit up in flames like a rising phoenix, with her sanguine gaze beckoning him back to her side. This was the girl he had seen before Hinata's obsession spurred into motion, and she was quickly becoming his own now that his brother's absence had lead to her restoration. Despite his attempts to avoid her, news of her hi-jinks in the café spread like wildfire amongst the boys. She had refereed a spontaneous soccer match after closing hours one evening to settle the feud between Wakatoshi and Ryuu, standing in the middle of the sports field with a whistle poised between her lips. She was throwing parties and pulling pranks left, right and center. She had somehow managed to lure just under thirty students into the café over Halloween to help her decorate in time for Viktor-sensei's return despite never having met him. He ached to be beside her; to communicate with her harmlessly and jovially as the other students were able to. He hated that this revival in her spirits had to come at the cost of Hinata's suicide attempt; loved her all the better when he realized she had emerged all the stronger for it. She was not weak, he realized. If anything, the situation with Hinata had exhausted her into indifference. Now she had been revived, the gap between attraction and love had been bridged and he found himself entirely consumed by her. But this always reminded him of Hinata's pathetic, sodden figure sprawled on the bathroom tiles with the blood seeping from his wrists and flung him even further into despair. And then there was Kyouya, whom Sousuke felt nothing but deep repulsion for with every sighting or interaction. So the cycle of his thoughts continued to torment him with the presentation of those three figures. Sousuke struggled to find comfort in his own head and was constantly battling fiercely with his neurosis.

She tried desperately to get through to him. His absence from school for three weeks had still gone unexplained, although gossip had made its rounds from the archery club into the classrooms and thus Sousuke's vague injury had become subject to sympathetic nods and pep talks from anyone who could get close to him. Nobody pressured him into returning to the archery club and accepted his unwillingness to communicate as him contemplating his future now that a potentially debilitating injury was threatening to change its course. The worst part was, nobody asked him what exactly the injury had been, and thus the imparting of information turned to rumor. The girl crept ever closer, and he dodged her every time.

One afternoon he failed, however. Idling between classes, he found himself caught in the circle again and resisted the urge to slam his head into one of the lockers that lined the corridor. More than anything, Sousuke wanted to sleep like the dead, dreamlessly and for a very long time. Some nights, he was so dogged by the recurring thoughts, he would sit up all night, haplessly chasing the feelings Hinata must have felt as he climbed into the bathtub in a desperate attempt to understand. Other nights he was so exhausted that he managed to catch a glimmer of sleep, but he would find himself back in the underwater world where Hinata's macabre tea ceremony played out on repeat.

She approached him tenuously, making little noise in her uniform indoor shoes. Instinctively, he narrowed his eyes in her direction and she paused, uncertainly beside him, her eyes frantic with concern.

"Sousuke-senpai," she began, but he interrupted her before she could continue.

"You're going to be late for class if you don't hurry," he said harshly, turning away.

His stride was superior to hers due to his height, and she had to trot to keep up with him while he vainly attempted to shake her off. "Where's Hinata-senpai?" the girl blurted out breathlessly.

Sousuke froze. He understood that this was a conversation the two of them needed to have, but he couldn't find the right words. The faculty members had spent the last few days shooting down rumors and addressing Hinata's absence by alluding to a workshop in the mountains where Hinata was mastering his art. Being right on the back of Sousuke's absence however, many students refused to believe it. Sousuke knew that their lifestyle was out-modish and cultish. Students were not hard-pressed to believe that something strange was happening at the compound where the boy's lived.

"In the mountains," Sousuke responded, carefully and vaguely.

He made a conscious effort to look into her eyes as she said it and he balked at the sight of them, flaming with determination. Something stirred inside Sousuke; her eyes were filled with such passion beneath her chestnut bangs that desire began to mount and he had to turn away from her.

"Are you lying to me?" she asked him.

He glared at the corridor ahead of him. He had balled his hand up into a fist to stop himself from trembling. In silence, she took it and opened it up, pressing his palm between her own two dainty hands and peering up at him imploringly.

Something passed between them; something that drove the platonic nature of their acquaintance into new, virgin territories. It was tinged with their mutual attraction and it made Sousuke deeply embarrassed. Embarrassed to be at the receiving end of the look that she gave him and embarrassed to return it. He couldn't help it though. The air was heaving around him. He was thrown completely off guard and swept away by it.

"He's in the hospital," he said quietly. "Psychiatric ward. I found him-"

His voice broke off suddenly. It seemed like everyone else had vanished off the face of the earth. The compound and the rest of the outside world faded into nothing. Hinata became a mere concept. He was only aware that she was there in front of him, shyly stroking the back of his hand with her trembling fingertips. Their palms met and she held them together, her lips quivering involuntarily. Her attempt at comforting him had become something far more intimate than either of them had envisioned. It was distressing to her that such a scene would play out with the boy who shared her tormentor's face.

"He tried to kill himself," he said monotonously. He had to restrain himself somehow. Either he was going to cry or kiss her there and then.

She became lachrymose, searching his face desperately for some indication that he was cruelly lying to her. This was her worst fear. Hinata, who had been so sweet, so warm to her in the beginning before he had taken that sinister turn, had tried to commit suicide. Innately, she knew this already. Timidly as a cat, she pressed herself into him, wrapping her arms around his lean body and enveloping herself in his scent. She could hear his heart beating in her ear, and she held onto it dearly, closing her eyes and focusing on that gentle throb.

Eventually, he wrapped his own arms around her too, and the seconds dragged by, laden with their unvoiced emotion. In his grief, it seemed to Sousuke as if they were sharing the guilt, pressing their bodies against each other so that it would be distributed more fairly; so that Sousuke wouldn't have to carry the burden alone anymore.

The two of them parted knowing that they would probably never embrace again. She remained tearful as she walked off, heading to the café so that she could cry in peace. Sousuke hesitated, and then went to class.

\---

Still dazed from the events of that afternoon and with the image of Hinata drugged into submission at the hospital hanging over him, Sousuke had little desire to watch his peers at the archery club. So that evening, he grabbed his shoes from his locker with the rest of the go-home club and made to leave. Before he could get out of his indoor shoes, however, someone placed their hand on his shoulder gently and when he turned to acknowledge them, his insides seemed to shrivel up in repulsion.

“Can I speak to you, Sousuke-kun?” Kyouya-sensei asked, gently.

His face betrayed no emotion so Sousuke nodded dumbly, struck by the realization that he might be confronted for embracing Kouhai-chan in the corridor earlier. This was illogical at best, but Sousuke still felt like he was in deep trouble for some reason, having been summoned by his love rival to the faculty room.

“I’m sorry about Hinata-kun,” Kyouya-sensei began when they were seated. His voice trailed off. He peered into the dregs of coffee in its takeaway cup with melancholy eyes as if he was reading his own fortune and avoided Sousuke’s gaze altogether. His shoulders were slumped and he bore the countenance of a man pummeled by guilt. “I’m sure it has been very tough on your entire family, but you especially. As Hinata’s home-room teacher I’d like to apologize to you personally for not noticing Hinata’s feelings earlier.”

The room was empty, with the rest of the teachers remaining in their individual classrooms or darting off to supervise after school activities, so Kyouya’s confession was strangely intimate, and Sousuke stared open-mouthed at the older man as he admitted to his own imagined failure with awe that was tinged with disgust. It was like confession in a church, with Kyouya bearing himself to allow Sousuke to pass judgement. He couldn’t shake the image of Kyouya stood between the girl’s splayed legs, however, arduously nibbling her slender neck. It emerged within him, crawling on spindly, inhuman legs, like an insect, and even though Kyouya was trying to topple walls with his declaration, Sousuke was quickly building them back up again in jealous haste.

“Haruka-sensei has offered to counsel you if you feel the need to speak to someone. He’s not an expert by any means, but his door is open to you throughout the day if you ever want to go there. Even if you just want to lie down or get away for a few moments, he won’t turn you away.”

"I'm fine, thank you," Sousuke said emotionlessly.

Kyouya was unsurprised, and nodded solemnly with his dark eyes still averted.

"Please don't feel guilty," Sousuke continued, suddenly ashamed at his own jealous rage, "none of us expected it."

This was where Kyouya glanced up and contemplatively began searching Sousuke's face. "Thank you," he spoke meaningfully, "but this isn't about me. This is about you and your brother." He hesitated slightly. "We are all here for you, Sousuke-kun. Your presence at this school is a source of immense pride for us, but you are far more than just a national champion in our eyes. Remember that. We don't bite. And we're not going to cajole you into doing anything; we won't tell you how to feel. But we understand that this has been a somewhat tumultuous year with your injury and now this; senior year can be stressful at the best of times even without having to experience something as traumatic as this last month."

Kyouya-sensei stood up, signalling the end of the conversation. He flung the takeaway cup into the garbage and glanced down at his student one last time.

"Haruka's offer still stands," he said, with a fond smile.

Sousuke sat there bewildered. His newfound hatred for Kyouya was mingled with admiration and it only served to frustrate him further. The teacher slipped out of the faculty room in the direction of the third year café without turning back and all Sousuke could do was stare forlornly at the mound of lesson plans on the desk. How could one person be so conflicted, he wondered to himself. Why couldn't anything just be simple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this was the most difficult chapter I've had to write so far for this particular fic and I don't know if it was because of the themes I included or if I was just having a slow couple of days but it is such a relief to get this up! Again, I'm not happy with this chapter. Even though it ended up being roughly one thousand words longer than the previous chapters, I still feel like the pacing is a little off and I'm very meh about some of the sentence structures and vocab choices. But getting it up means I can move on to the sixth chapter which is the halfway point in the narrative! Yay!
> 
> I did realise while writing this that I forgot to mention something: Kouhai-chan is meant to be you, i.e.: the reader, hence why I haven't given her a name or any noteworthy features apart from her chestnut hair and bangs (which she has in game anyway). I hope I managed to convey this early on; I promise it's not a lack of imagination on my part orz. I did end up giving her a bit more of a personality though, especially in this chapter, so feel free to view her as yourself or a character in your own right. Whatever floats your boat.
> 
> Thanks again for reading/leaving kudos/comments, it means a lot!


	6. By Her Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke ends his self-imposed isolation from his classmates and returns to the café, but word begins to spread about the relationship he has with his kouhai.

While Sousuke had been confined inside the compound to recuperate from having his ribs broken, the school had been anxiously awaiting the return of its most shameless teacher, back from an extended trip abroad. He had heard the stories that were circulating of a gloomy afternoon in which Kyouya-sensei had lured the unsuspecting teacher to the third year café to be spooked by a gaggle of students at the height of their respective caffeine buzzes. They had decorated the café, dressed in elaborate costumes and waited in darkness for Viktor-sensei to stroll in, flanked by their fellow conspirator.

Sousuke was too emotionally drained to feel jealousy for having missed out on the party; according to Soujiro, Hinata hadn't attended either and that, more than anything, had made Sousuke feel miserable. Still, when he scoured the pictures that his peers had uploaded online, his heart ached in his chest. It would have been fun to celebrate Halloween with Kouhai-chan. She wore a chequered harlequin costume that obscured her figure but struggled to make her make her appear more androgynous, assuming had been her intention. If anything it seemed to accentuate her femininity and the boys remained enthralled. In every picture taken of her, she was clutching a tray of drinks and smiling wearily at the camera. It had never been more obvious how little anyone cared if the drinks cooled while the boys posed around her; she was the main attraction of the café anyway.

Sousuke looked down at his smartphone and sighed audibly. He was up on the rooftop again, perched on a bench overlooking the school grounds with his knees tucked under his chin. Ren was probably dozing on a couch downstairs in the café again. Sousuke didn’t blame him. The winds were boreal now, biting at Sousuke’s wrists and ankles, even with him wrapped up in his bulky carmine quilted jacket. As he shuddered and flexed his fingers, he wondered whether or not it was time to find a new hiding place.

Almost too soon, Sousuke heard the dissonant bell ringing from beneath him, followed by voices hollering and wailing out in the courtyard. Dropping his legs down to the ground, he grudgingly made his way to the double doors leading to the stairwell, but as he did so, he came face to face with another person. His stomach sank. Viktor-sensei must have been hiding from Hideki-senpai at the other side of the rooftop all along. He was exactly the kind of person Sousuke had been avoiding during his self-imposed isolation up there.

"Ah, Sousuke-kun," the alabaster-skinned teacher greeted. His pointed teeth were too large for his mouth and turned his speech to a beguiling slur. Whenever Sousuke spoke to him, he felt like he was being enticed and manipulated somehow.

"Viktor-sensei," was Sousuke's nonchalant response. Subconsciously, he crossed his arms.

Sousuke had expected Viktor to continue walking ahead of him without another word, but instead he continued to block the entrance, smirking fondly. The gleam in his eye made Sousuke oddly compelled to explain himself, but he swallowed his excuses when they rose like a sob in his throat. Was wanting to be left alone really that bad? Was his behavior strange? Sousuke wasn't sure.

Viktor's scarlet hair was ruffled slightly by the wind. It contrasted so starkly with the overcast, gloomy sky and his waxen skin that it physically hurt Sousuke's retinas to look at him, so he averted his gaze.

"Kyouya-sensei told me that you've declined counselling," Viktor continued. His dandyish gait was almost menacing in its playfulness as he edged closer, reaching out to place a hand as cold as winter on Sousuke's shoulder. "I understand your feelings, but as your homeroom teacher I'd like you to know that I'm here if you ever need to talk. But I'm sure you've had similar offers from every faculty member."

Sousuke nodded dumbly.

"Well, I'm glad I managed to catch you up here either way. I had been meaning to speak to you for a few days now. Shall we head to class?"

Viktor moved gracefully in the direction of the stairwell doors, leaving the boy to mull over his words. But Viktor had been right; Sousuke had heard the same spiel from almost every teacher from the first to third floors and he wasn't about to be swayed by his devil-may-care homeroom teacher of all people. He dug his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it once again. It was time to stop hiding, he decided. He needed to go back to the café so he could be around the others. Nobody would worry about him if he at least pretended.

\---

The twisted tea party was spurred on like a machine set in motion by Sousuke's ability to sleep again now Kouhai-chan had willingly shouldered half of his burden. Beneath the gnarled and shriveling maple tree, only three figures remained, strangely compelled to continue their ritual without their tormentor. Hinata was gone; that eldritch figure had vanished altogether from the dreary compound, all awash in sea green and as eerily tranquil as the ocean floor.

Kouhai-chan continued to wear the headdress that Hinata had woven for her, but the flowers were dropping and petals fell to the floor in droves like falling snow. They accumulated on her lap and fell into the teacups, but instead of floating like small boats, the muddy concoction that Hinata had served them sucked the petals in, dirtying and devouring them like a ravenous beast. The three of them watched this happen wordlessly, but still clutched the cups, as if readying themselves to take a sip.

Sousuke glanced pleadingly at his cousin. Soujiro, by Hinata's twisted logic, hadn't betrayed him yet. Maybe he could talk some sense into him. But Soujiro was distracted, his eyes locked fearfully on something swaying in the trees. Sousuke turned his head, following his cousin's eye-line, and found himself staring at a hakama-clad figure swinging pitifully from a noose. Sousuke's stomach churned. Hinata had been there all along, watching them through warped features. His mouth was like a smear, curved upwards into a Cheshire Cat grin.

\---

Sousuke spent the remainder of the week in the café in an attempt to elude the cold weather but as the days passed, he crept closer and closer to the counter until he found himself perched on a bar stool besides Kouhai-chan. They spoke shyly between themselves, as Kouhai-chan whipped up fragrant coffees, sprinkled cinnamon over chai lattes and filled the glittering stainless steel teapots with hot water. Before he knew it, the other students were watching him enviously, mouthing encouraging words in his direction and giving him lightening fast thumbs ups when her back was turned while they waited for their drink. The gestures touched him. He returned their smiles sadly. If only they knew what was really happening beneath their happy display of intimacy. That Kouhai-chan actually belonged to someone else, and their comradeship was borne of nothing more than shared experience in dealing with Hinata.

In the evenings, Sousuke would amble around the café, wiping down tables with hot, soapy water while the girl fidgeted with the coffee machine. He became inexplicably nervous at this point without fail every evening and thanked god that the sound of the dishwasher roaring in the background drowned out any hopes of the two hearing each other. A conversation should have been simple now that he had embraced her and yet his pulse began racing with debilitating vigor when the final group of students filed out and left them alone. The air crackled and popped with veins of electricity that were unbearable beneath the weight of their unspoken feelings until finally she had loaded up the dishwasher and it violently shattered the silence, leaving them to their individual tasks.

One day as they were locking up, she timidly asked whether it would be a good idea to visit Hinata, but Sousuke shook his head at her firmly. His brother was so loaded with anti-psychotic medication that when Sousuke went to visit him the first and only time, he was presented with an empty vessel masquerading as a boy named Hinata. Occasionally a spark that Sousuke recognized from long before the era of Kouhai-chan flickered in Hinata's eyes, but it was like a switch, flickering on and off again without warning.

On the fourth day, a delivery of coffee beans arrived, and while the girl chatted with Takahiro from behind the counter, Sousuke began putting the boxes away. He winced visibly as he raised the last box and positioned it on the top shelf, not realizing that she had followed him into the stock room. He tenderly placed one hand on his torso as the pain seared through his chest, breathing deeply though his mouth, when suddenly he spotted her, staring at him with a deeply disturbed look from the doorway.

"Is that why you've been missing archery practice?" she asked him gently.

He nodded cautiously, faintly surprised that she had even remembered him being member of the archery club at all. His ties to the club had been so tenuous the past month that they had been acquainted, after all. She moved away from the door to let him through but he still tensed up as he passed. He didn't want to elaborate. He was still so ashamed.

If his kouhai had wanted to ask him, she had managed to restrain herself, because she alluded no more to his injury. Whenever she parted her bangs, though, he could see the lines of concern etched into her forehead.

\---

Her pity baffled him. He saw it as a curse, pervasive and lurking in the very foundations of their friendship, yet his days with her were streaked with moments of great contentment, wherein his thoughts would be drowned out by the sound of her steaming milk in her cluttered station. The whole school became animated, babbling without discretion about them across tables in the canteen and in crowded classrooms. Sousuke couldn't take it.

He felt like a fraud.

It seemed to him that nobody truly cared who Kouhai-chan chose as long as it was somebody. Attending such an elite school, many of the guys were far from being in the position where they could date after all and were merely satisfied by having her close by. Her existence had lead to so many drastic changes; boys began choosing their words carefully, opting out of fights and settling their differences in new, creative ways. She was the mother of lost boys in their adoring eyes - unobtainable but influential. And one boy's success was a success they all shared.

The news of their relationship spread like a flower unfolding - slow to begin with, but harder to ignore as time passed. Sousuke had an inkling that he was no longer being perceived as the polite, old-fashioned archery champion who was well-liked but rarely missed when absent. Many of the first-years - too daunted by the girl's solo status and the plethora of older, more experienced boys to make their own moves - shirked around Sousuke's haunts, desperate to get his attention. The archery club became the most popular of the school's extracurricular activities overnight, and was brimming with new, eager recruits. The boys from his own year invited him out for food or karaoke and seemed genuinely disappointed by his refusal. Almost everyone had forgotten that Hinata even existed.

The pressure mounted until one afternoon, Sousuke slipped into the infirmary and climbed into one of the beds wordlessly, drawing the curtains in warning as Haruka-sensei made to approach. He had no desire to speak to anyone, to do anything, until the school had settled down. In that moment, Sousuke would have hazarded a guess that he was going down in the annals of the school's vast history and was on the verge of forgoing his academic career altogether. Normally he would have approached the matter calmly and collectedly. Being the subject of gossip was a fact of life, his mother always used to say - an oddly prophetic statement, considering the smoldering crater she had left in the compound in the wake of her scandalous desertion. But it was all just another grievance on top of a festering pile; just about weighty enough to break a donkey's back.

He was semi-conscious when Viktor-sensei strolled into the infirmary, having lulled himself into a state of composure by focusing on the plain, ivory walls. He captured the image in his mind and swam in the nothingness, as if in a trance. If any thought tried to stray or intrude on his meditative state, he cast it aside as something he would consider later. Then Viktor-sensei's boisterous voice shot any hope of serenity to smithereens as he tore the curtain across the railing and invited himself inside.

"Viktor! I've told you! He doesn't want to talk!" Haruka-sensei protested feebly.

"I'm just going to sit in here, okay?" his foppish companion responded mirthfully, flinging the curtain shut once again and perching himself on the foot of the bed.

Sousuke's mind was screaming in indignation. Get out, get out, get out! If he hadn't been so fatigued, he would have spoken those words. If Viktor hadn't been his home-room teacher, he would have pounced on him.

"Well, Sousuke," Viktor said pleasantly, "you've been making quite a name for yourself as the beau of that pretty barista. I do wonder why you're hiding in here when you should be proclaiming your superiority to the whole school."

His face suddenly changed to the extent that Sousuke barely recognized his own teacher. This man appeared dour and tired, peering at his student with sad, compassionate eyes.

"It's very strange, what you're doing right now," Viktor murmured. "This is meant to be a joyous occasion. Your brother is returning to school soon, the entire school is kneeling at your feel in awe, you've got a beautiful girl by your side... It's almost as uncanny, I'd say, as a decorum-obsessed teacher straying from his righteous path." And with that, he stared Sousuke dead in the eye, his jaw set rigidly.

Sousuke blanched. "You know?" he said breathlessly.

"You know," Viktor repeated quietly. Relief washed over his features. He placed his fingertips on his eyelids and sighed into his hands.

A long silence followed, as Viktor perched on the bed deep in thought. Sousuke was sat up in the bed, feeling vulnerable and silly, but in that moment, he was completely captivated by Viktor's mournful appearance. Ordinarily this was a man who held his head high, towering above the rest and commanding respect despite his gaudiness. Now he was slumping, with his elbows pressed above his knees and half a face obscured by his hands.

"Viktor-sensei," Sousuke said quietly, "you don't need to worry about me. I'm not being deceived because we're not dating. We're just friends. I've known for a while what was going on, but I saw it by accident; she never told me."

Viktor remained pensive for a while, and then he sat up, glancing at the curtains apprehensively before facing Sousuke.

"Kyouya has been my friend for a very long time. My feelings for him run very deep. They are complex and turbulent."

He spoke in a confessional tone with deep lines appearing on his alabaster skin. Sousuke was momentarily stunned by the confession. Viktor-sensei was not speaking about his colleague as if they were merely friends.

"This has upset me greatly," Viktor continued, "and I have no idea what to do. I can play dumb and let him play out his little schoolgirl fantasy until he either gets bored or gets sacked. Or I can confront him which could damage our friendship irreparably. I'm scared to even acknowledge the situation, to be frank. My own career is at risk if it transpires that I know and have not made an effort to report it."

"I understand," Sousuke murmured, his face contorting under the strain of repressed emotional pain.

"I thought you might," Viktor said quietly. He gave his student a half-smile and Sousuke fancied that he had never seen someone so crestfallen. Suddenly, Viktor stood and patted Sousuke's on the head. "I hope that you and I might be friends. I'm sorry you've had to see me like this; no student should ever see his teacher act so... lovelorn." He laughed bitterly. "I'll excuse you for the rest of the day, if you'd like. I'm sure you need to prepare for Hinata's homecoming."

And with that, he opened the curtains and slipped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much if you've followed the story this far! Viktor's entrance into the story marks the halfway point of the narrative, with all the key players having been introduced AND IT FEELS SO GOOD TO HAVE GOTTEN THIS FAR.
> 
> Honestly this chapter was so frustrating. After writing two really hectic chapters one after the other, I expected a lull in the action to be way more relaxing than it actually was orz. I tried. This is probably reflected in the length of the chapter (it's the shortest one yet) but trust me, it's flanked by the two longest ones so it's not a bad thing.
> 
> Thanks again for reading/giving kudos/commenting. It has really encouraged me to focus on this project a little more than I did initially. I've already begun the seventh chapter but it will most likely drop next week because it's gonna be busy at work this weekend ;_; 
> 
> Oh and also I have tumblr now, be my friend: http://chatoyantgames.tumblr.com/


	7. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke has found a confidant in Viktor-sensei, but the peace is soon shattered on the night that Hinata returns home.

Hinata returned home from the hospital one bleak November evening, when the hoarfrost had captured the remaining blood orange leaves on the maple tree. He had always been slighter than his athletic twin, but as he sluggishly moved up the leaf strewn path, he appeared gaunt with far more prominent cheekbones than Sousuke had remembered. His knees protruded from the holes in his black jeans and the violet jumper he liked to wear was sagging on the shoulders, revealing a razor sharp collarbone. His eyes were piercing; even as a part of his vulnerable, skeletal frame, they happily betrayed the fact that he was no better.

Sousuke heard Soujiro’s sharp intake of breath. They were stood, obscured by the long shadow of the maple tree, watching intently as Hinata and the twins’ father retreated into the shadowy house, shutting the world out behind them.

He had to leave. He couldn’t stay in the compound with the eldritch shell of his brother in such close proximity. It felt like torture. He felt stung even though he had almost expected the scene to play out exactly as it had in his head.

During the day, the compound was awash in orange, but now night had settled it was a sea of muted browns faintly illuminated by the moon. Lights emanated from each window, lighting his way as he trampled through dead leaves towards the entrance. The compound was like a fairytale village from another century, both regal and quaint in its own way. Sousuke understood the appeal of it; it was a community all of its own, closed up from the rest of the city with its own night-time soundtrack of the pond water undulating. It was intended to be a peaceful place by his well-meaning ancestors. It had become very claustrophobic and eerie to him now, though.

He was half-dazed when he found himself in the city center. He had been replaying the scene in his head for so long that he was moving on autopilot, navigating the streets without paying much attention, until the tranquility of the compound was torn away by the heaving city and all it’s garish lights. It was sensory overload. As if to extend the delusion, Sousuke ducked into a familiar arcade and let himself get lost in the raucous cacophony of one hundred machines warbling at once. It shook Hinata’s image from his skull and made him strangely content.

He had spent so long hiding from other people that it had become almost habitual but now Hinata was back, he craved the company of other people almost as much as he had abhorred it. He was happy to spectate, but heard a familiar voice as he wandered deeper into the maze. It rose above the noise of the machines and after some hesitation, he sought out the source.

He found Shun and Ren seated side by side in front of a racing game. Shun’s hands were locked on the wheel and his sharp, erratic movements corresponded to the movements of the car onscreen, accompanied by his raucous commentary. The light radiating from the machine enveloped his wild, red hair like a halo. Ren snored next to him, slouched in the driving seat clearly unmoved by his companion’s vigor and skill. Shun was a classmate of Soujiro’s, who had visited the compound on occasion and even humored Hinata with his tea parties: he and Sousuke were on first name basis, even though they rarely spoke at school. Sousuke watched the screen for a while, keeping his distance, until the course came full circle and Shun began rooting in his pockets for change, almost sliding from the driver’s seat in the process.

“Shun-kun,” Sousuke greeted. He turned to Ren also, but he was somehow still sleeping through the chaos. Sousuke sighed affectionately.

“Sousuke!” Shun hollered, jumping up out of his seat. “This is so rare! How are you?”

The two boys talked animatedly over the noise for a few moments. Sousuke perched on the end of Ren’s seat and watched as Shun maneuvered his way through another track, babbling senselessly about balancing his exam revision and gaming schedule. To Sousuke it sounded like he hadn’t been revising much at all, but he laughed along in amusement, his eyes adjusting to the screen’s bright glare. Ren stirred, kicked Sousuke gently in his sleep and rolled over.

“I’m going to go get a drink, want anything?” Sousuke eventually asked, suppressing laughter as he was unceremoniously pushed out by his sleeping friend.

Shun, delighted, asked for a soda and threw a smattering of change into Sousuke’s palm. He was in high spirits and it was contagious. So Sousuke headed off towards the back of the arcade where the claw machines and drinks machines were kept, feeling blissfully distracted. He came to the arcade so rarely that it was still a novelty to him and he drank in the sights like a child, fascinated by the design of each arcade cabinet and what it contained.

Then he heard someone calling his name; he recognized the high-pitched, chirpy voice almost instantly. Jarred from his daydream, he glanced in the direction it hailed from and saw Kouhai-chan waving at him from the row of claw machines. Someone was with her, clearly glued to one, which was filled to the brim with smiling teddy-bears, all crushed together in plush toy mass grave. It was Takeru - Sousuke recognized the tussled, sandy-coloured hair, even though it was changing rapidly beneath the arcade’s garish neon displays as they flashed from pink to green to blue and then to orange. He swallowed. _She was on a date._ He felt mixed emotions as he reluctantly approached.

“Senpai!” she called exuberantly, beaming at him as he strolled towards her. She bounced up and met him in the middle, leaving Takeru behind her. “What are you doing here?”

He lied through his teeth, conjuring up a half-baked story about him, Ren and Shun, meeting up at the arcade to escape pre-exam blues. She nodded empathetically.

“Takeru-kun too,” she said, pointing over her shoulder. “I literally had to __drag__ him away from his books! I read an article the other day about a girl who suffered a stroke because she was revising too much and panicked. Moderation is so much better. You’re allowed to have fun sometimes, too, even in senior year.”

He smiled down at her. She was so pretty beneath the flashing lights. Her eyes were sparkling jubilantly and he felt like the warmth emanating from her heart was heating the entire arcade all by itself. He was suddenly sorry that she had to be involved with him and Hinata at all.

“Are you on a date?” he asked suddenly.

He assumed he already knew the answer to his question and felt very bittersweet about it. The thought of her with someone her own age brought him a strangled sense of satisfaction; he wasn’t sure what kind of relationship she had with Kyouya-sensei but he had visions of something quite toxic. And maybe the rumors would stop and he could go back to being the simple, modest archery champion whose trophies stood amongst the others in the entrance of the school, boasting its elite alumni. Still, he was grappling with his own emotions and willed himself to appear nonchalant as he prepared for her answer. 

“Me?” she blinked up at him, searching his face warily. “No, Takeru-kun’s a childhood friend of mine.”

“Ah,” he responded monosyllabically, not really sure how else to phrase his obvious surprise. The uneasiness was flooding back already. “Well, good luck anyway,” he continued vaguely, waving and moving off in the direction of the drinks machines, leaving her stood there to mull over his reaction.

He marched back to Shun and Ren - the latter of which had finally woken up - clutching the cans between two hands, and the three boys chilled out together for a while. Sousuke took over on Ren’s side, crashing his car into every obstacle and veering off onto the gravel until Shun got frustrated and began barking instructions in his direction. He was so wrapped up in the game that he hadn’t noticed a fourth person join them. She dropped her handbag to the ground and crouched between the two seats. When he heard her tittering along with the inane laughter of the boys’, he tried so hard to focus and win the race that he crashed twice as often.

“Hey, Sousuke-senpai, can you walk me home?” Kouhai-chan asked when Ren took over. “I have to be up early to open the café and Takeru-kun wanted to stay a little longer.”

He nodded, wordlessly.

“You started acting weird earlier, are you okay?” she asked him once Shun and Ren were out of earshot. He could still hear the former screaming obscenities at the other cars on the track, even as they turned the corner and headed for the entrance.

“Weird? Me?”

She nodded coyly and looked down at her feet. “When you saw Takeru-kun and I.”

“Oh,” he responded, peering at her queerly. “I don’t know why, I guess it was just nice to see you with a guy your own age.”

The words had left his mouth before he even had time to think about them; he had spent so much time with Viktor lately that the topic was no longer a safely guarded secret kept chained up in the back of his mind and now emerged from his lips as naturally as a banal comment about the weather. He watched as her face drained of it’s colour and she looked up at him in abject fury, her eyes wide and lips trembling. __Shit__ , Sousuke thought to himself. __I’ve done it now.__

“Hey, I didn’t mean-”

“ _ _Get away from me__ ,” she barked, slapping his hand away as he made to comfort her. His knuckles stung from the impact and he inwardly cursed himself for his tactlessness.

Pleadingly, he spoke her name - her real name - grabbing her hands so she couldn’t sneak away. Her eyes flickered onto his for a split second as she struggled, the colour returning to her face just as violently as it had left. She didn’t deny anything, and instead hurled insults at him. Other people narrowed their gaze in their direction and hurried away.

“You have no right to mention that,” she repeated over and over again. " _No right_!" Her voice was choked and before he knew it, she was crying quietly with tears streaming down her distraught face.

He put his arm around her shoulder and guided her out through the entrance out into the street. It was far less busy now - he could actually hear himself think, even as the synthetic lights blazed on. Once he had found a quiet spot near a bar that was shut for the night, he slumped against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear her hiccuping softly beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pulling a handkerchief out of his blazer and handing it to her.

She began to dab at wet eyes, her gaze still averted.

“You have no right,” she repeated. The venom in her voice pierced him.

“I know,” Sousuke responded ruefully, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight. Hinata came back home today and I barely recognize him-”

“What?” she interjected, genuinely confused. The atmosphere changed dramatically around them, like they had been spat out of the hurricane of one emotion right into another.

“You didn’t know?” he breathed, his eyes widening. “Nobody told you?”

Their gaze finally met. Stragglers out in the street passed them by without paying any mind to the dreadful silence that had fallen on the dimly lit street corner where they stood. The fear they shared passed between them like a circuit, back and forth, back and forth; neither of them could tell who to be more afraid for.

Finally, she spoke up. “Nobody knows who my stalker was,” she told him quietly. “I never told sensei the whole truth.”

This disturbed him. “ _ _Why__?” he asked her angrily.

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble too!” she snapped. “Your name is going to get dragged through the mud just as much as Hinata’s-”

“Why do you even care?" he growled. "He’s my brother; he’s _my_ responsibility. I made a promise that I would protect him and I failed. I deserve whatever is coming to me for that reason. You need to protect __yourself__ before you even start thinking about other people. Don’t act stupid. We don’t know what Hinata is capable of.”

Her chagrined face was iridescent in the moonlight, still slightly wet and marred with the tracks of her tears.

“Come on, I’ll take you home,” he said fondly, sorry that he had snapped at her.

\---  
  
Sousuke had unexpectedly acquired an ally in Viktor-sensei, who patrolled the cobbled pathways of the school courtyard twice a week at lunch time and often brought Sousuke with him for company. It was easier than sitting in the café lately; with Viktor, Sousuke felt like he could be truly honest about everything, including his own desolation and the times that he had blacked out following Hinata’s suicide attempt. He couldn’t even bring himself to confess these episodes to Soujiro. Viktor listened sympathetically, too quiet to seem officious and shared his own sorrows in return, so that the relationship became mutually beneficial.

“She knows that I know now,” Sousuke was murmuring with his head bowed sheepishly. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but she got really upset.”

Viktor continued walking straight ahead. “Really upset?” he repeated uncertainly.

“She slapped my hand away and started crying.”

“Right...”

“Why would she even get that upset? I mean, she reacted straight away. She wasn’t hiding it. She didn’t even try to deny it. She just freaked out.”

Viktor paused. “Come on,” he said motioning towards one of the benches in the courtyard. “I think we need to sit down and talk properly.”

They walked side by side in the direction of the bench, which had been propped up in front of several large trees, planted when the school first opened its doors a century prior. They didn’t spot the figure which ducked out of view, clad in indigo and listening intently as the pair sat down.

“People make a habit of wanting what they can’t have. I am a prime example of that. The clandestine element of their relationship is probably the very core of what makes it tick; by revealing her own secret, you may very well have chipped away at something she perceived as very special.”

“So I ruined it,” Sousuke responded glumly.

“Not necessarily, although it may have stunned her enough to make her rethink the situation. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Viktor chewed his lip, phrasing and rephrasing in his head, leaving Sousuke to sit in silence. He bounced on his heels in an effort to keep warm now they were no longer in motion. As the seconds ticked by, he was on the verge of offering to change the subject as his teacher seemed reluctant to speak up, but then Viktor finally opened his mouth. The words he spoke were oddly strained.

“Do you think… that this relationship would work if Kyouya was not her teacher?”

Sousuke wasn’t too sure. “Kyouya-sensei is a very genuine person,” he said, wincing at his own honesty, which seemed to be in favor of the rival he tried his hardest to hate the most. “I think if they just happened to meet and she was at a regular school, maybe it could have worked. She was raised by her grandmother, and now her grandmother is dead, so she needs that kind of adult influence in her life. I… I just don’t know any more. I only saw them together once.” He swallowed. “Something just doesn’t sit right with me. I feel like he’s taking advantage of those feelings, but at the same time I feel like it’s bad for both of them.”

“Passion is always detrimental but it’s not necessarily bad. It depends where your priorities sit.”

Sousuke thought back to how they had embraced each other in the corridor; the two of them were bound together by a overwhelming, ephemeral flow of emotion that seemed to be borne out of thin air and yet was their most honest encounter yet. He dug his hands deep into his jacket pockets.

“I think… I think I love her. At first I just, you know, __wanted__ her…” He blushed and looked down at his feet. “But now I don’t care what happens - who she ends up with - as long as she’s safe… and as long as it’s not Kyouya-sensei. Anyone but him, and then I can take Hinata far away and we can forget she even existed.”

Viktor smiled sadly. “I used to be like that. ‘He can have anyone he wants, as long as it’s not __that person.’__ I suppose there are no secrets between us any more, but for the sake of the person I’m referring to, I won’t reveal who it is.” He scowled involuntarily and then sighed when he realized he had done it. “Then she came along. To be frank, it was naive of me to think that I could bear losing to anyone. Because I can’t. It has to be me. That’s the only way that I can be happy knowing him.”

The dark figure that had been watching them vanished behind another tree, and then another, until it was gone altogether, leaving them as alone as they assumed that they had been.

“How long have you felt this way about Kyouya-sensei?” Sousuke asked out of genuine curiosity.

Viktor glanced sideways at his pupil. “Since we were at this school together. I followed him to college and then back here again; the only times I’ve ever kept him distant from me is when I go abroad for research purposes, but to be honest, that tends to be when it all gets a bit too much. It’s been almost thirteen years.”

Sousuke was stunned. “That’s a long time.”

Viktor nodded with a self-deprecating smile. “It is.”

There was a brief silence as Sousuke imagined thirteen years stretched out in front him, comparing it to the thirteen years he had just left behind. Now eighteen, to him it seemed to encompass his entire memory. By comparison, the future was uncertain and he was facing it alone, without the comfort of his twin brother, who had strayed onto a different path altogether. He wanted to go back to those days where they would sweep the leaves from beneath the maple tree together, jumping into piles and throwing the leaves to the heavens, watching them flutter down like bird feathers. It was too late for that now, though. Sousuke had stabbed his brother in the back, abandoned him, allowed him to be carted off to a psychiatric ward and then watched him return home malnourished without voicing his concern or reaching out. His crimes were numerous, and only just beginning.

\---  
  
The members of the archery club were on tenterhooks as they watched their captain raise his bow towards the target board. He was almost effortlessly self-assured and it spread amongst them like radiation, rekindling their desire to master the sport that they had grown to appreciate. Even those who were as proficient as him in hitting the target were amazed by his artfulness and poise.

Sousuke felt a twinge in his rib-cage, swallowed, and then let the arrow fly free. It was the first arrow he had shot in weeks, and even though he had begun to resent the sport, it was a cathartic moment for him when it hit the target dead on, leading the club into an uproar around him. His relationship with archery was like that of a marriage: tumultuous at times, but the love he had for it was very pure, albeit deep-seated.

He spent the rest of the afternoon with the newcomers, who had waited patiently for his return. Some nudged him and in hushed whispers, asked about Kouhai-chan - __were they together? Had he slept with her? Didn’t he get envious with all the other guys hanging off her all the time?__  He sighed and brushed off their questions. The rumor had come so far already that denying it would be humiliating. 

Practice ended early due to light rainfall, and by the time the floodlights were turned on, lighting up the archery range and tearing way a rapidly darkening sky, Sousuke was alone, checking arrows for splinters to see which ones could be used again. He made a mental note to move practice indoors for the remainder of the winter and headed indoors to see if anyone from the student council was around to help him make arrangements, but they had all rushed home too, probably expecting a downpour. Sousuke gave up and headed to the lockers to grab his things so that he could make his way home before the clouds burst.

Things were still tense at the compound. When Hinata had been in hospital, Soujiro’s mother was beside herself with pity and invited Sousuke’s father to dinner most nights, where, under the watchful eye of his extended family, Sousuke began to rebuild the relationship that had disintegrated. He knew that he would never return to his father’s house: he would go from Soujiro’s place to his own apartment as soon as he had graduated - most likely with Hinata in tow - and would probably stay there until it got too cramped, assuming that he would marry one day and have children of his own. His plan was not something he had given much thought to, rather just an assumption that he had, but being around his father so much had only magnified it and he longed to leave the compound once and for all. Its influence had crept under his skin as he got older and realized that immensely private places were the home of all the behaviors society had shut out. Sousuke wasn’t prepared to be beaten again, nor was he prepared to let Hinata become one of them.

Hinata… Sousuke peered in the direction of the stairway and wondered if he was up with the rest of the tea ceremony club, sifting matcha and talking passionately about the traditions he held so dear. Leaving his outdoor shoes in his locker, he turned back around and headed for the club-room on the second floor.

The corridor was eerily silent when he arrived. He knew instinctively that they must already be washing the bowls down in the school kitchen. The textiles had been neatly folded away by the time he entered the club-room and he could smell the tea hovering in the air like a ghost, drifting apart and fading away. It seemed like all the other clubs had disbanded early too, as the doors were shut firmly and there was no sound emanating from behind them.

As Sousuke began to descend the stairs, he heard a scuffle coming from above him. He paused for a second and glanced up at the ceiling. It was coming from the third floor.

Then he heard a scream.

It was unquestionably female. Sousuke suddenly felt very cold and very hollow, filled with nothing but gut-wrenching dread, and before he knew it, he was running up to the third floor, dropping his bag in the process.

He saw the keys to the café splayed in the middle of the third floor corridor as if they had been flung and picked them up with trembling hands. The scream was then followed by an almighty thud and as Sousuke approached its source, he could hear whimpering, followed by crazed, vehement shouting.

Sousuke recognized the voice.

It was virtually his own.

It belonged to Hinata.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited to finally be uploading this chapter!!! Hinata is going to be making his proper comeback in the next installment and god help me I love writing yandere Hinata, like, a little bit too much. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always, you guys have been so supportive, it's unreal. You get so used to toxic fandoms that sometimes it's strange to even think that there is one out there that is as great as this one is. Anyway, have a great day/night wherever you are!


	8. Seeing Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the entrance to the third year café, Hinata hovers above a beaten Kouhai-chan, having finally uncovered her secret relationship with his homeroom teacher.

The world began to spin frantically with Sousuke at the center, bending his vision and turning the scene into a dizzying kaleidoscope. Everything was moving so slowly. Sprawled on her knees and clutching her own mouth was Kouhai-chan, trembling beneath the towering figure in front of her. Blood trickled from her fist and each tooth was dyed in streaks of crimson.

“Hinata!” Sousuke roared, pouncing at his brother.

The twins crashed into the nearest wall, spinning in the fray and becoming one. As they wrestled for dominance it became more difficult to tell them apart or determine which one had the edge over the other. Hinata was frail but impassioned, fighting back furiously with every last ounce of energy he had. The grin on his face was sadistic; his eyes were wide with unmasked hysteria; and his hair, now thin and lifeless, fell around his face chaotically, giving him the impression of a wild animal. Hinata was gone - so far gone that Sousuke hesitated as he tried to restrain him, wondering whether or not to hit back. That split-second hesitation was all Hinata had needed to fling his younger brother onto the ground, where he leaped onto him and began pummeling with all his might.

Sousuke could only defend himself. Every time he tried to raise his fist, he was gripped with guilt so consuming that images began to flash through his mind of the night that his father had broken his ribs.

“Stop this, Hinata!” he yelled, grabbing his brother’s wrists, “You’re insane!”

To his left, he saw Kouhai-chan stand, her face a mask of determination. She ran down the corridor towards the faculty room. Sousuke could hear footsteps and doors opening around them. The few people left in the school, unafraid of the incoming downpour, were coming to see what was going on.

“This is all your fault!” Hinata wailed. “I heard you! I know that you love her!”

Sousuke froze, letting Hinata slip from his grasp. He began to slap at Sousuke’s chest pathetically, a sob escaping his mouth.

“I just want to go back to normal,” Sousuke said calmly. His jaw was beginning to throb painfully.

“We can never go back to normal!” Hinata shrieked with frenzied eyes dancing all over Sousuke’s baffled face. “ _ _You betrayed me__!”

Hinata grabbed Sousuke’s head and smashed it against the wooden floorboards. It rattled Sousuke’s brain and, half delirious, he had a vision that he was being beaten by himself. He vision wavered with the onset of pained tears, making Hinata appear like his own reflection in a dirty mirror. Nausea bubbled up in his stomach and his skull felt like it was being wrenched apart.

“Stop…” Sousuke croaked, twisting his body from beneath Hinata in agony.

Hinata cackled ominously. The sound of footsteps was getting louder now; there was a drove coming, from the direction of the faculty office, accompanied by orders to stay away.

“I know everything,” said the sinister whisper close to Sousuke’s ear. “ _ _Everything__. If I can’t have her, nobody can. I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”

Suddenly, someone was dragging Hinata by the collar, wrenching him away from Sousuke. His body became as rigid and pliable as a rag-doll, with his arms swinging limply by his sides in a show of perfect vulnerability. Small, mouse-like noises of protest emanated from his lips.

“Sousuke-kun, are you okay?” someone asked from behind him. He realized he was being lifted up by Haruka-sensei, whose palpable concern increased tenfold when Sousuke stared at him incoherently with bleary eyes. He was laughing bitterly and maniacally.

“I couldn’t hit him back,” he chortled. “I just froze up every time. Isn’t that pathetic?”

 ---

Viktor was emotionally drained. No, it was worse than that. He was emotionally exhausted. He was beginning to think it would be nice to never have to think or feel again: to let go of his humanity and become a shell. That afternoon had wormed its way into his head and left its scornful offspring to feed off his brain. Guilt and despair were sucking him dry. The sight of Sousuke, bloody and concussed, was returning to him again and again in bright, undulating flashes like a circling lighthouse beam, shining in through the windows of his eyes. Could he have stopped it from happening? He hadn’t looked passed Sousuke’s need for a confidant; instead of listening, he should have been taking action.

Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a teacher after all.

He dropped his face into his hands, sighing wearily for the hundredth time. Through parted fingers, he could see Kyouya, blank and ashen-faced, clutching an unmoving pen poised on blank paper. Viktor’s heart fluttered with longing. All he wanted was to melt into his lean body and find comfort. Kyouya would tell him that he was a great teacher; that there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent what happened. He was a good man like that. How anyone could stifle their own emotions for the sake of others, even when they were equally as affected, was a mystery to Viktor, but the man in front of him was able to do it somehow. It was one of the reasons he loved him.

Viktor had been the first to arrive at the scene of the scuffle after Kouhai-chan burst in, tears streaming and face bloodied. Kyouya had ordered her to sit at his desk while Haruka fussed with her - at this point Viktor was already out in the corridor. Her voice carried through the hall after him, shrieking:

“For god’s sake, both of you! Help Sousuke-senpai!”

The first thing he had done was try to restrain Hinata as quickly as he could, but even with the perpetrator in his grasp, Viktor’s focus was jostled when he saw Sousuke. It was the sight of him, so unsteady on his feet, that had jarred Viktor once and for all. He felt pangs in his chest when he realized that his relationship with him had built to that of a bond between an uncle and nephew. Brave, chivalrous Sousuke, who hadn’t lifted a finger to Hinata and yet taken everything he had to give. It just wasn’t fair.

Hinata was now sat in the corner of the faculty room on a wooden chair with his palms held upright, humming to himself disconcertingly. His eyes were awfully focused on Kyouya for some reason. Viktor couldn’t look any longer; his thoughts were an scattered mess. __Sousuke never mentioned that Hinata knew and yet…__ No, Viktor was going to trust his gut instinct this time: Hinata __knew__ about the illicit relationship between Kyouya and Kouhai-chan. He __had__ to know.

Haruka had hurried both Sousuke and Kouhai-chan to the infirmary before either of them could be spoken to. The former seemed to be suffering from a slight concussion, while the latter had only been hit once and had bitten the inside of his cheek so hard that she sprayed blood all over herself as a result. Apart from the slight bruise that was emerging along her cheekbone, she was more or less fine, and as soon as Haruka had cleaned her up she went about tending to Sousuke in a matronly manner while Viktor swallowed his own concern and ambled towards the faculty room where Kyouya had taken Hinata into detention.

“This is grounds for suspension, Hinata-kun,” Kyouya said wearily, putting his pen down and lying back in his chair.

“Mm,” Hinata responded, uninterested.

The two teachers exchanged anxious glances at each other.

“Is something happening at home?” Viktor asked with trepidation.

He knew that Sousuke-kun had moved out of the family home and in with his cousin. He had also alluded to some violence that had taken place which had debilitated him enough to see him miss months of archery training, but had begged Viktor not to get involved any further. They agreed that any information which was imparted would be taken as a friend speaking to another friend, rather than a student speaking to a teacher. Viktor began to regret that he had made this promise.

Hinata’s gaze drifted over Viktor’s jaded face for a moment, and then he shrugged.

“Nothing noteworthy,” he mumbled.

Viktor paused. “Sousuke-kun may have mentioned that he is no longer living with you and your father. That sounds pretty noteworthy to me.”

Hinata gritted his teeth. “It’s not __noteworthy__ ,” he responded condescendingly. “It’s all Sousuke’s fault.”

Kyouya gave him a puzzled look. He then sighed with finality, flexed his fingers and began hammering away at the computer keyboard in front of him.

“This is an elite school and your family are paying a lot of money for you to be here. Don’t think that this is going to excuse you from what you have done. Unfortunately I can’t punish you any more than I would punish anyone else for fighting, even if you did choose to pick on a girl. In fact, my actions are probably going to come under scrutiny considering your recent circumstances. I’m going to suspend you for the rest of the week and after that we will put you on a reduced timetable. I’m emailing your father now.”

Hinata stared out the window with a dead-eyed expression during Kyouya’s speech, honing in on the dark, wintry sky.

“That’s fine,” he responded dully.

The synthetic light of the faculty room made the boy’s skin appear translucent and his pupils had shriveled to half their normal size under its glare. Viktor shuddered.

 ---

Kouhai-chan lived in a modest apartment block, a short walk away from the school, which in turn was situated just on the outskirts of the city center. Although it appeared dingy from the outside, Sousuke felt himself shrouded in maternal warmth as soon as he entered. Her grandmother’s orderly shrine was situated against a windowless wall and her belongings still crowded the kitchen tops: antique teapots complete with floral tea bowls and ancient cookbooks, published long before Sousuke had even been born. Kouhai-chan headed straight for this area, flicking a switch on the wall and filling up the kettle, breathing a heavy sigh as she did so.

“Do you ever drink coffee?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Sometimes,” he responded, crouching in front of the television.

“I think now is the best time for it.”

Sousuke cradled his head in his hands while her back was turned, brushing his fingers through his dark hair. Everything was bathed in a gentle haze. He had hit his head far harder than he initially thought and Kouhai-chan had dragged him to her apartment to make sure that he didn’t fall asleep, which was exactly what he wanted to do in that moment. He was no longer seeing stars, but his mind felt hollow and soft like unmolded clay. It was frustrating.

He handed him a mug and he took it gratefully in both hands, bringing it to his lips and blowing at the rising steam.

“I’m sorry for making you come here,” she said softly, taking a seat next to him.

He felt the hairs stand up on his arms with her in such close proximity. His thoughts weren’t coherent but his body was reacting normally which was a small relief. The television played at a low volume, but for a while it was all either of them could hear as they drank the strong, hot coffee in silence.

“I’m sorry about Hinata,” Sousuke finally said.

When he looked at her, he saw the bruise that was darkening along her cheekbone where his brother had punched her. It was like a relic of her ties with the twins, just as much part of him as it was Hinata. He could have prevented it, he thought to himself. Stepping in and taking a beating just wasn’t good enough. He should have been there from the onset; he should have tracked Hinata’s movements.

“It’s not your fault,” she replied kindly.

“How can you say that? I’ve told you a million times, he’s my responsibility. I keep running away and hiding from the facts, but-”

“Listen, I can’t even make a connection between you and Hinata any more,” she interrupted suddenly. “Okay?”

He blinked at her, uncertainly. Seconds passed, only marred by the sound of raucous laughter emerging from the television.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” she paused. “I mean at first I saw you as two halves of one whole. Like yin and yang. I guess you get that a lot, but, you know, it’s hard not to look at it that way. At first, you both looked so similar, but…”

Her voice trailed off as she stared into her mug.

“He looks so insane now. And the two of you act so differently. I have so much reason to suspect you and hate you but you seem so sincere. Lost almost… like you don’t know what to do. Like you’re on a sinking ship or something. It’s just not __fair__. I got weird vibes from him at the beginning; most of the other guys don’t know how to take him either. And you blame yourself for that. __How can you__? You were both children when your mother left.”

Sousuke blinked. “He told you about that?”

“Soujiro did.”

Sousuke stared at the television screen thoughtfully. It was a lot to process; even though she had explained it as simply and specifically as she possibly could, he couldn’t seem to bolt it down. The information was like an insect buzzing around his head.

“Can I ask you a question?” he suddenly said, turning back to her.

She nodded.

“Why Kyouya-sensei?”

Kouhai-chan frowned slightly. “Well, it happened when you were off school. He was driving me home when I shut the café in the evenings and we got talking. I don’t know. Something just clicked. He’d touch my shoulder and I’d just want to shrivel up and die because I was so embarrassed. Then one day he just turned to me out of nowhere and told me to __hurry up and graduate__. You wouldn’t believe how many nights I lost sleep trying to work out what that meant. He was just __there__  you know. That’s all I can ask.”

She sighed, placing the mug between them and folding her arms over her legs.

“I feel like I’m always waiting on people. Always chasing them. My friends at middle school forgot about me because I couldn’t spend time with them any more. I never knew my dad and I was always trying to track him down to build a relationship. With sensei everything was easy, apart from the whole having to keep it secret. He’d be the one waiting for me at night while I locked up. But to be perfectly honest, it’s just the same all over again except in reverse. I want someone in my life like my grandmother, someone that I can meet in the middle. Does that answer your question?”

He nodded and she smiled fondly at him.

“Now can I ask you one? Why were you off school for three weeks?”

“My dad found out I’d been skipping archery. I ended up with broken ribs.”

“Oh,” she breathed.

“It wasn’t a big deal. There’s nothing a doctor can do so you’ve just got to wait for them to heal by themselves.”

He laughed sardonically.

“I have a habit lately of getting beaten up by my family members,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to see it this time.”

Sousuke looked into his mug, which by now was drained of coffee with the exception of the milky dregs at the bottom. He swirled them around absentmindedly. Somehow hitting his head off the floorboards had crumbled the walls in his mind and he was talking honestly with her without minding much. Rather than shame, he felt deep down that he _should_ feel ashamed, yet wasn’t. Suddenly a hand appeared in his line of vision, removing the mug from his grasp and placing it beside the one on the floor. Kouhai-chan moved closer, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she was whispering, her face fraught with the sudden realization, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Sousuke was stunned as she crawled between his legs and pressed herself up against his chest, holding onto him tightly, as if she expected him to push her away. Feeling unsure of himself, he wrapped his arms around her slowly, murmuring into her hair.

“It’s okay,” he said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. “I didn’t tell you.”

“You missed archery to watch the café for me,” she sobbed. Her voice was muffled by his chest.

He took the bruised side of her face in his hand tenderly, feeling like a bag of nerves but desperate to placate her somehow. She touched the back of his hand in response, relief mingled with her distress.

“I wouldn’t have had to do anything if it wasn't for Hinata, okay?”

She sniffed, gazing up into his eyes. The tracks of her tears could be traced all the way down to her delicately pointed chin. Where these tears were from, he couldn't be sure. All he knew was that he hated seeing her cry and twice in one day was killing him.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked suddenly.

Sousuke's face drained of colour as he looked down at her. He struggled to comprehend what she had said, yet understood the gravity of it right away. He found himself nodding, numbly.

Her tongue tasted metallic from the blood that she had washed away with mouthfuls of water in the infirmary and the gauze on her cheek as he stroked it peeled away under his hand. Normally one to channel strength and vitality, she was a trembling wreck in his arms, stroking his torso with shaking fingertips, giving herself to him entirely. So this was what kissing her felt like, he thought to himself, brushing her soft, parted lips with his own as she gave herself into the kiss. Her eyes were shut, with tear drops resting on her fluttering eyelashes like specks of glitter. Every once in a while, they would peer at each other uncertainly with furrowed eyebrows, and then return to kiss, letting it grow progressively deeper and more passionate.

Her fingertips were tracing his entire body. Up his arm, down to his stomach, and then resting on his thigh. He felt himself grow stiff as she grew closer and was faintly embarrassed, but she responded straight away, shyly stroking his cock through the fabric of his trousers.

He murmured her name and gently pushed her away.

“I don’t want to do this,” he said finally. “You deserve better.”

“I’m the one who decides what I deserve,” she said softly.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and rested her head on his. He could feel the gauze pricking his skin beneath his shirt.

“I like you,” he suddenly told her.

It was an unprompted confession, bound to tangle the mess of their shared situation even further, but he wanted to say it - at least once.

“I like you too, senpai,” she murmured, nuzzling into him. “I like you a lot. So let me stay like this for a while. Please.”

Her voice was oddly calm but imploring. He held onto her, in that quiet room, with the sound of the television set and raucous canned laughter breathing life into their solemn embrace. He closed his eyes, and leaned into her. Despite the contentedness he felt, something was gnawing at the back of his mind. Words, smashed to smithereens began to rearrange themselves in his head.

_I’m going to kill that son of a bitch._

 ---

Hinata was sat beneath the maple tree; his gaunt face was dignified and opalescent in the glow of the moonlight. He gathered the crisp leaves that lay around him in droves with his hands and threw them towards the sky, absentmindedly humming to himself as he did so.

“You’re back late,” he said mistily, as Sousuke approached.

Sousuke stared down at Hinata, crossing his arms over his torso self-consciously. “Why are you out here?” he asked.

“Dad hit the roof,” his brother confessed, shrugging. “He’s such a hypocrite. Tell me, are we ever going to get around to raking these leaves like we always used to?”

“You said it yourself, nii-sama,” Sousuke responded softly, “we can’t go back to the way things were now.”

“But I’ve been thinking… why not? I can be good. You just have to stay away from her, that’s all.”

Sousuke shuddered. The air was far colder in the compound than it was outside, where Sousuke was perceived as an individual: an individual that could meet a sweet-tempered girl in the middle and lovingly held by her. Here he was cheek-to-cheek with the devil; the other half to a mercurial whole.

“Listen, Hinata,” Sousuke began, “there are some things that I can take from you as your brother. I’d still love you even if you robbed a bank. But this is too much. You've gone way too far this time.”

“What are you expecting me to do, Sousuke?” Hinata sighed wearily, “What do you even think I'm capable of?  We're the mirror image of each other already, I don't need to peel of your skin and wear it to  _be_ you if she decides that you're the one she wants. It's far simpler than that; you've got to realize. Everybody treats me differently - everybody thinks I’m a monster and they always have. Even dad likes you better than he ever liked me and you singlehandedly smeared his name across the whole compound when you left. You were the only person who could overlook the part of me that went wrong, but that's clearly not the case any more.”

He laughed bitterly up at the stars as he rested his head against the trunk of the tree. Sousuke was deeply unsettled; his suspicions about Hinata had been right all along. People really had seen this coming and he had unknowingly condoned it the whole time.

“I can’t even remember why I liked her so much. There’s no method to it; it just is what it is. I can’t stop these things from happening any more. I can't hold back like I used to. There’s more than just me inside my mind and that cancerous thing goes on and off like a switch; one second I’m fine and the next I’m full of this uncontrollable rage. I don't even realize what I've done until I've done it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, this is me wanting you to stop me. I want you to lock me up and throw away the key. I’m a danger to myself and I’m a danger to you, too. And I’ll be honest, I don’t care for the girl even half as much as I care for you. You’ve always looked after me. It would kill me if I ever ended up hurting you.”

A long shadow was cast over Hinata’s face and Sousuke fancied that it was the shadow of the departed mother before he realized it was just the maple tree, in all its splendor, swaying gently in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I only put the last chapter up a couple of days ago, but I wanted to get this one out before the weekend because it's going to be a hectic one again! ~~I'm really, really tired so I will try and fix any mistakes that I've missed if I have time tomorrow, but I did really want this up before things got super busy.~~
> 
> _I have been so looking forward to writing this chapter._ I like to waste time building things up and creating atmosphere, so it's insanely satisfying to see Hinata in all his yandere glory return to center stage. He's been lurking in the background for so long now that I almost forgot what a fun character he is to write. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and have a great day! If I was to hazard a guess, I'd say that the next update will come early next week, depending on how tired I am. It's going to close off a couple of the subplots so bear with me as I want it to be perfect.


	9. Good Men and Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Hinata really a danger? Sousuke tries to convince himself that he's not, while Viktor confronts his own inner turmoil and the relationship he has with Kyouya.

It was difficult to believe that just a month prior, Viktor was still in the throes of his three month sabbatical, most likely waking up against a gravestone or a postbox somewhere in the Irish countryside having drunk himself into a stupor the evening before. It began with him visiting historical monuments, taking long drawn-out tours and scribbling indecipherable notes into his moleskin journal, but too weeks later he found himself feeling so hopeless for all the useless information he was amassing, whilst failing to maintain any sort of passion for it, that he threw in the towel. He took long, drawn-out tours of distilleries instead.

If Viktor was an alcoholic, he was still a functioning one at least. Living alone in his one bedroom apartment, nursing the artistic temperament that had dogged him since he was a child, he had acquired a taste for whiskey, and so it was with a hint of regret that he rinsed the short glass he had left on his bedside table and filled it with a healthy amount of amber liquid. It was the last of the whiskey he had hauled across the sea en route to Japan and he intended to drink it solely on special occasions with beloved friends or like-minded individuals. It was gone now, and he hadn’t shared it with a soul.

Viktor was the first person to admit that he was spiraling downwards again. He was beginning to worry about the stench of alcohol lingering on his breath and his clothes. Nobody seemed to have noticed but he remained devout in his paranoia, dodging the headmaster in the hallways and keeping his distance when he spoke to his students. The inside of his head constantly felt hollow and soft like kneaded dough. He was transforming, slowly but surely, into a nervous wreck - the kind of teacher that hid bottles of wine in the bottom drawer of his desk and hurried off to the bathroom to chug spirits from a flask between classes. For the fourth night in a row, he peered into the dregs of his empty glass and swore to himself he wouldn’t drink another drop until the year was over. There was no conviction in this solemn vow to himself, but it made him feel better that he was at least aware of the drinking problem he was developing.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Sousuke-kun and Kouhai-chan as they were that afternoon: bloodied, bruised, bandaged and swollen, still reeling from Hinata’s vicious attack. He had sunk his claws into his younger brother like a rabid dog and it was with a grim sense of pride that Viktor had greeted Sousuke the following Monday to discover that he the same as always, except hardened and more determined. Hinata’s brutality wasn’t lost on Viktor: he understood the gravity of the situation better than most would be able to, and this fact gnawed away at him until he found himself uncorking a bottle of merlot. He was thankful that Sousuke was willing to confide in him at all, but Viktor was in a position of power as a teacher and an adult. He had only grown more convinced that it was his job to stop Hinata before it was too late and yet without concrete evidence, the authorities wouldn’t be able to convict him of anything, especially with Kouhai-chan so unwilling to speak out.

“He’s just a little emotionally unstable,” Haruka had murmured soothingly over coffee in the faculty room that morning. “We can’t turn our back on him now.”

“But god only knows what will happen next time,” Viktor had wailed, pushing the caramel latte as far away as possible. He was so dehydrated from binging the previous evening that the thought of slurping down coffee made him feel nauseous. The scent clung to his nostrils and his throat felt so dry that he wanted to vomit.

“It’s the first time we’ve needed to reprimand Hinata-kun,” Kyouya responded calmly, “and on the back of a suicide attempt, no less. Haruka’s right. He needs just needs some extra care and attention right now. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

At this point, Viktor had been on the verge of regurgitating all the information that he had been keeping locked away in his brain, which felt like it had shrunk to the size of a pea and was threatening to leak everything regardless. He faltered when he realized just how oblivious Haruka was. Besides, the last thing Viktor wanted was for Kyouya to lash out while at school. Even with Hinata at arm’s length, presumably living out his suspension in the family compound, Kyouya’s job was still at risk if anyone caught the faintest whiff of his relationship with the school’s sole female pupil. He swallowed and opted to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

Kouhai-chan. Sweet-tempered, compassionate Kouhai-chan, the undisputed matriarch of the school at the tender age of sixteen. Her impact had been boundless. Delinquents wizened up, artists discovered their muse and bookworms emerged from their cocoons as socially awkward butterflies. If Viktor had been that way inclined, he could have easily fallen under her spell, but the person he loved was traipsing around with her instead. It hurt like hell to lose to a teenage girl, but at the same time, he was extremely fond of her.

As he mulled over the conversation from that morning, swirling the blood-red wine in his glass absentmindedly and letting it spill onto his hands, he heard a great crashing noise from the entrance of his apartment. The door had been swung open and in stumbled Kyouya, still clad in the dark suit he had been wearing that day at work and his hair slightly damp from the evening’s light rainfall.

“Evening,” he slurred, grabbing a freshly laundered towel from the radiator and shaking the rain from his hair.

“...evening,” Viktor said steadily, taken aback at Kyouya’s sudden appearance.

Wrapping the towel over his shoulders, Kyouya gloomily ambled over to the kitchen to collect a second wine glass, emerging with it clamped between his fingers. With a loud clunk, he set it on the coffee table and drained the rest of the bottle, filling it three quarters of the way full.

“My girlfriend just broke up with me,” he announced, after taking his first sip.

“Your girlfriend?” Viktor responded innocently. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend."

“Well, I did. Don’t ask questions, I’m not in the mood. I just got thrown out of one bar for fighting and they wouldn’t let me into any others because I was too drunk.”

Viktor smiled knowingly to himself, his heart surging with bliss and embitterment simultaneously. For some sick reason he was jealous of anyone who was able to inflict pain on Kyouya - to cut him deeply and irrevocably was one of his greatest wishes, brought on solely by his longing to be lodged within his friend’s psyche - to dominate an era of his life in such a way that he would be memorable for matters of the heart. Hope had glimmered like drifting orbs of light a long time ago, but someone had hit the dimmer switch on the purity of Viktor’s feelings and blurred the lines between right and wrong. He was so desperate, so full of envy, that if he ever happened to topple over a cliff with Kyouya in reach, he would have dragged him down too rather than let him waltz into the arms of someone else.

“Now, now, Kyouya. Don’t be a fool. I know you better than anyone,” he murmured smugly.

Kyouya studied his friend's face for a few moments, taking in the mischievous glint in his eyes, the slight upturn at the corner of the mouth and the pink, excited tint that lined his cheekbones.

"What on earth are you talking about?" he asked with foreboding.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” Viktor sneered, “but while we’re on the subject, can I ask you a question? Why does everyone call her ‘Kouhai-chan’, of all things? It sounds so demeaning. She has a name and she’s not everyone’s underclassmen, after all. What do you call her in private? Actually, what does she call _you_ in private?”

Dull pangs of jealousy were beginning to cloud his judgement - or maybe it was the wine. Either way, he cackled bitterly when he saw Kyouya’s face drain of colour and twist into his signature scowl.

“Don’t worry! I kept your secret for you,” Viktor assured, reaching towards the wine rack by his armchair, “although you weren’t as discrete as you think. I saw her getting into your car one evening after the café closed. I don’t know many teachers who greet their students by caressing their face, do you? I tried my best to forget about it, trust me. I went about my business like there was nothing going on at all. You’re safe, for now.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Kyouya growled menacingly. The news seemed to have jolted him back down into sobriety. His dark eyes were focused and fueled with rapidly growing contempt.

Viktor shrugged and slouched back into the armchair. "It's done now. Drown your sorrows, get over it and find someone else, like everybody else does."

"That's easy enough for you to say," Kyouya snapped. His cheeks were flushed with repressed fury and he took several large gulps from the wine glass before sitting back himself, mirroring Viktor's posture.

"So what's next for you?" Viktor asked out of genuine curiosity. "Is that what you're into nowadays? Schoolgirls?"

"Shut up," Kyouya snarled.

"I'm sorry," Viktor cackled playfully, "I just used to relate to you better when you preferred sleeping with men."

Kyouya's face changed suddenly. From Viktor’s perspective, he seemed calm, oddly vulnerable and faintly surprised.

"Is that what this is about?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

"Us. Back in high school."

"Oh, you're talking about that? No, no, we were just fooling around, it was nothing," Viktor said dismissively, waving his hand in a desperate bid to seem nonchalant about the situation. Still, his stomach lurched and his mind opened up like a flower, spilling intricate memories like pollen and giving him some kind of emotional hay-fever.

The other man, stared at his wine glass in thoughtful silence while Viktor smirked self-deprecatingly. The lull in the conversation ended swiftly, and they eased into playful debates about art, literature, their approaching thirties and the way their society was shifting around them. Their conversation always drifted towards these safe topics - sentimental and philosophical in tone - whenever they came close to confronting Viktor's unspoken feelings. It was so habitual that it happened without any awkwardness. A random passerby wouldn't think twice about it.

It was almost morning when Kyouya's lids began to droop. Viktor grabbed the blanket he kept for such occasions and gently placed it over his friend's body, which rose and fell rhythmically as he slept.

As he turned out the light and walked away, with Kyouya's deep breaths growing ever more faint in the distance, Viktor, as always, wished that he could turn the clock back to yesterday. To have let so many years pass with so many things left unspoken was nothing short of humiliating and yet every time Kyouya unlatched that time capsule, letting the memories that Viktor had dismissed as fantasies become more vividly real, he found himself filled with new hope.

_Kouhai-chan, Hinata-kun and Sousuke-kun._

_Kyouya, Haruka and I._

Three people begin to weave a story together. It is always mellow to begin with, until their emotions kick into drive and the web becomes evermore tangled. The threads bind themselves around the three, keeping them in gossamer thin shackles that weigh heavy with the burden of the years. They stand in a perfect triangle formation, watching each other intently, but no single one of them can make a move, at the risk of upsetting a steady balance that exists between them. More years pass. They grow older, wiser, but still rooted where the lines of the story have become twisted. The story never ends conclusively.

 _Somehow_ , Viktor thought to himself as he crawled into bed, letting the alcohol ease him into another fitful sleep, _I don't think our stories are going to end the same way._

\---

Sousuke was beginning to think that there was a little bit of Hinata inside of him: a monster, lying dormant in his soul, ready to be jarred awake at any moment. He had visions of it latched to his feet like a shadow, stretched and disfigured, waiting to be unleashed. He had shared Hinata’s life with him, drank from the same breast, bottled up the same sorrows - there was no way that he was immune to the plague that had infected his brother’s mind. It just hadn’t emerged yet.

Likewise, there was surely a little bit of Sousuke in Hinata - someone noble, swallowed whole by madness; someone who had been too weak to fight back and had crumbled under the weight of his trauma.

As Sousuke tied the indigo ribbon around his neck and turned down the collar of his shirt, it struck him how haggard he was beginning to look. The dark circles beneath his glazed, pale blue eyes were becoming more prominent and his mind was so occupied that he felt separate from his own body.

The door slid open and Soujiro entered, grimacing. He was in no better shape than his cousin.

“What’s up?” Sousuke asked.

“I can’t focus,” he responded in a flat tone, flicking the television set on. “My brushes keep fraying. I keep screwing up. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Since Hinata's suspension, the two boys had spent most nights out on the veranda, drinking hot chocolate and playing cards with gloved hands. They watched as the twins' father entered and exited the shadowy house, knowing that Hinata was hidden somewhere in its depths. They exchanged anxious glances over their hands, missing cues and finding that their games were lacking in any kind of intensity. No one was having fun but they remained vigilant, dutifully perching themselves in the exact same spot every night and praying that Hinata would stay inside the house where he belonged.

Soujiro was the only person that Sousuke could confide in. He had become so wildly overprotective of Hinata in the days that had passed since his brother had uttered that sinister threat that he had almost driven himself into a frenzy. He knew that his inability to share the information with anyone else could potentially have dire consequences, and yet he couldn't bring himself to act more decisively. He found himself distrustful of even Viktor-sensei, whose feelings for Kyouya would almost certainly mar his judgement and Kouhai-chan, as much as it pained him, would be no different. Soujiro was the only person left who wanted to protect Hinata as much as Sousuke did, so it was with a heavy heart that he repeated the exchange that took place that night, begging his cousin for guidance.

"He wouldn't really kill anyone, would he?" Soujiro had asked, uncertainly.

"I don't know," was Sousuke's honest reply.

Together, they lurked outside the faculty office, day in, day out, waiting for anyone to come along and wrench the information from them. It weighed as heavy as the ocean, and both boys were sluggish with anxiety and a lack of sleep. Kyouya, meanwhile, seemed to have changed overnight, becoming just as haggard as they themselves felt. Cracks were beginning to form in his stoical mask and previously unseen emotions were seeping through. Sousuke bit back any inclination to investigate, although he was dogged by one terrible thought. Was it Hinata, who had brought this sudden change on?

Sousuke left Soujiro sprawled on the floor watching a dinnertime variety show, reminding him to keep an eye on the adjacent house, which was eerily quiet as he passed by. He thought austerely of Hinata, hosting tea parties for no one in particular, repeating the same process over and over again with nobody left to applaud his grace or passion. Sousuke wished he could be part of it. He had to make things right again. He just needed one more night to be a normal kid - not the kind who kept himself cooped up so that he could keep an eye on his potentially murderous sibling, but rather the kind who went shopping with girls in the evening and didn't come home till late.

Kouhai-chan was dressed casually when he climbed up the stairwell to meet her at the entrance of the third year café. Her lashes were bolder in colour than normal and they curled upwards; her lips glistened invitingly. She smiled at him warmly as he approached.

"I'll be two seconds," she said cheerfully, rummaging in her bag for her keys.

The mark on her cheek had faded from the colour of mulberry to a dark blue tinged with yellow. It was oddly enticing, despite its ugliness. Many of the third year students had questioned her about it and her story had remained staunch - one evening when she was closing up, she slipped on the stairs and hit her face on the banister. Everyone knew that she wasn't a clumsy girl - she could carry five plates at a time, and never once spilled a drop of coffee while waiting on. Naively, they chalked the episode down to over-work and nothing else was said, although the rest of the students went that extra mile to make her life that little bit easier in the café.

"Here's everything I need," she said, handing him a neatly folded sheet of lined paper as they made their way to the school entrance.

He opened it up and squinted down at the itemized list. _Three foot Christmas tree with lights, something, something, Christmas crackers, something ingredients, Christmas napkins..._ Her handwriting was an untidy scrawl and, despite his best efforts, he could only get the gist of what was written.

"Lead the way," he said gently, "I'm just here to carry your bags."

The city center was bustling with people. Festive string lights had been weaved around the bare tree branches and almost every storefront, from the ordinarily humble to the vibrant, seemed to have been remodeled for the upcoming Christmas celebrations. As they took in the displays, they allocated each item on the list it's own individual budget and chose a simple colour scheme. As they began browsing, amassing carrier bags and one awkward, bulky cardboard box for the tree, Kouhai-chan rambled on happily about her plans for the festive period. It seemed to Sousuke that she was over-playing her excitement; every word out of her mouth was related in some way to the café and he realized with a pang that it would be her first Christmas alone without her grandmother.

As much as he wanted to, Sousuke couldn't dwell on it. Compared to Kouhai-chan, who was speaking animatedly with a perpetual blush lining her pale cheeks, he was peering over his shoulder constantly in contemplative silence, wondering if there was a dark figure in the distance tailing them. To any ordinary passerby, this was a date, and the memory of their kiss in her apartment flashed in the back of his mind. It was as loud as a siren, drawing Hinata closer. Another betrayal to add to the pile.

"Senpai," Kouhai-chan said suddenly, "are you okay?"

"Hmm? Yeah I guess."

" _'I guess'_ ," she repeated uncertainly.

"Don't worry about it."

She pouted, extending her fingers to stroke a plush reindeer as they passed through an aisle of themed gifts. Finding themselves with a little of the budget left over, they had made their way to a department store to browse for further ideas. She wanted to adorn each table in the café with a little something or buy an ornament for the counter where she served her customers.

"I broke things off with sensei," she admitted quietly, letting her fingers drift away from the toy.

"Oh."

"...is that all you have to say?"

"That wasn't what was on my mind if that's what you're thinking," he confessed meekly, shifting the carrier bags onto one arm so he could reach out and squeeze her hand comfortingly. "Don't worry about it. And I'm sorry things didn't work out."

As they walked on, Sousuke felt uneasy suddenly. Innately, he understood that the news of their separation was a bad thing - they were far safer together than they were apart. However, the invisible pull that drew him to her tugged violently and excitement surged up from the pit of his stomach to his brain. It seemed to fizz, making him feel high. His distrust of Kyouya defied all logic - Kouhai-chan's safety was meant to be his priority and yet, somehow, it was not; just more evidence towards the case that the Hinata hidden in his psyche was very real.

His paranoia elevated and, nervously, Sousuke looked over his shoulder, expecting to see nothing but meandering late-night shoppers, half-halfheartedly browsing the shelves behind him. Instead, what he saw was a figure in a dark turquoise jacket, swiftly disappearing into the adjacent aisle. For a split second, he recognized the profile as his own and his blood ran cold. He could hear his pulse thudding dully like a drumbeat and he stopped dead in his tracks, whispering the girl's name in an agitated voice.

She paused and turned to him in acknowledgement, her face perfectly neutral if not a little whimsical. Christmas jingles rattled on from the speakers above him.

"We need to leave right now," he quietly implored, gesturing her back to him.

For a brief moment, he glimpsed raw, unadulterated fear surging through her, but then, like a curtain closing over a stage, she took on an expression of perfect composure. With fierce, blazing eyes, she took a step towards him, taking the hand he offered, and wordlessly they exited out onto the street through the automatic doors. Sousuke headed directly through the nearest crowd and they slipped through several congested side streets before exiting into a residential area, which remained relatively busy with people skirting the edges of the city on their way in or out.

Ushering her into her apartment, he locked the door behind them, fixing the chain in place.

"Hinata is following us," he said in a hushed tone.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

He nodded confidently. He knew the shape of that coat - it had been an expensive designer garment gifted to the twins by their grandmother: one in turquoise and one in crimson. Sousuke had been wearing the latter for the past month and he knew that it was way out of most people's price range. Besides, he knew that face so well that it had become almost surreal to him as the two brothers distanced themselves even further from the other. He didn't care to mention that he had seen it following them out onto the streets, peering between gaps in bodies with a look of undiluted rage.

Sousuke could see Kouhai-chan's hands trembling as she busied herself in the kitchen. He resisted the urge to prise the coffee jar out of her shaking fingers, embrace her lovingly and lull her into a false sense of security by whispering comforting cliches into her chestnut-colored hair. She was a strong girl. Far stronger than he was. Besides, there was something he needed to do first.

\---

Viktor was out getting groceries when his phone began to vibrate in his blazer pocket. He was in a volatile, edgy kind of mood; out shopping to take his mind off the bottles that sat enticingly in his wine rack back at the apartment. The last thing he wanted was to socialize. Hesitatingly, he fished the juddering cell phone out of his jacket pocket and peered at the screen, sobering up almost instantly when he saw the caller ID.

"Sousuke-kun? Hello?"

The voice at the other end was calm and dignified. "Viktor-sensei," it greeted, "I'm really sorry to call you so late... I was just out shopping with Kouhai-chan and Hinata started following us-"

"Do you want me to come get you?" Viktor interrupted, anxiously.

He was stood in the middle of the supermarket cradling a bottle of olive oil, with the rest of the basket lying forgotten at his feet. He held the phone between his chin and shoulder, beginning to search frantically for his car keys with his free hand.

"No, no, it's fine," Sousuke responded quickly. "We're at her apartment now. I think I overreacted a little. I don't think he would have tried anything in the middle of a department store."

"He tried something at school," Viktor reminded him gently.

There was silence at the other end, and then Sousuke took a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you, sensei... When I fought with nii-sama- I mean, Hinata - he said he was going to kill Kyouya-sensei. I thought he was exaggerating, you know? Like a figure of speech or something. But... I saw him tonight and I don't know what he's capable of. I don't know what's going through his mind. This whole time, I've been trying to protect him - I've been trying to protect everyone - but... I think he's a monster. I think he might actually do it. He says he wants me to stop him, but I don't know how!"

The words spilled out like a turret of bullets, slicing Viktor through his body, which had become rigid and tense as he listened in silence.

"...Am I bad person for not saying anything sooner? This whole time I've been thinking about Hinata's future... There's only a few months until we graduate. I thought if I could just hold on for longer, I could get him to forget about her and everything else..."

"Sousuke-kun, you're not a bad person," Viktor choked out finally.

Those words were as true to Viktor as his hapless adoration for Kyouya was real. Sousuke-kun was a victim too, he just hadn't realized it yet. Viktor thought bitterly of the mounting pressure that his student was left to bear, as he fought his way through a web of truths and untruths, of petty exaggerations and blunt declarations, trying to keep everyone safe while he left himself exposed. If anything, Sousuke was a very good person - just very confused and ultimately biased, neither of which was his fault. He tried to comfort the boy, who was wretchedly silent, through the receiver until Viktor found himself staring at the steering wheel of his car, the phone carelessly flung into the passenger seat. He knew exactly where he was gearing himself up to go, but the conversation had startled him. He needed to breathe for a moment.

Back when they were attending the academy themselves, Viktor and Kyouya were not good people by anyone's definition. By the time they had reached their senior year, they were on a fast track to nowhere. While Viktor shirked behind him, roguish and proud, Kyouya induced fear in the other students just for the thrill of it as he strolled confidently through the corridors. They were both intelligent and capable, much to the chagrin of their teachers, but had no intention of succeeding in life. Their only goal was to go down in flames with the society they abhorred so passionately, having been neglected and abused by it. Power over others was established via money and a predisposition towards corruption and although they were borne from families that had both in spades, they had never been shown love. This was how they had come to bond in their first year.

Something had changed at the end of their final year however. They met Haruka. Kyouya's artless, ferocious inclination towards violence underwent a subtle metamorphosis - he only fought when provoked and began expressing himself with words rather than his fists. Before Viktor knew it, they were both heading to college, both training to become teachers, both joining the very institution they had tried to turn their back on. Kyouya grew up. Begrudgingly, Viktor followed him.

Kyouya had just exited the bath when Viktor rang the doorbell.

"We need to talk," he said seriously at the door, although his hands shook and his anxiety was rampant.

Kyouya finished tying the belt of his dressing gown and stepped aside to let Viktor enter. They both sat down in the living room, where, much to Viktor's relief, Kyouya had been drinking from a mug of piping hot coffee as he watched the evening news.

"What's up? You seem... upset," Kyouya muttered vaguely, picking up the remote and muting the television set.

Viktor's insides churned; the background noise had been a comfort and the silence weighed him down, derailing him completely.

"It's about Hinata-kun," Viktor began shakily.

"I told you not to worry about that," Kyouya responded gently. "Do you want a cup of coffee?"

Viktor shook his head violently. "No, I'm serious. I have something to tell you. Hinata-kun was the person who was stalking Kouhai-chan, okay? And it wasn't just stalking either, he tried to drug her at one point, too."

Kyouya's jaw tightened. "Okay," he said finally.

"Also he found out about you and her, which is why he attacked her after school last week. Sousuke-kun knew too. The rumors about them weren't just convenient placeholders until she graduated and you could have her for yourself; he's been watching over her this whole time because of what his brother has been doing. You can't say you didn't have your suspicions, surely?"

The other man hesitated. "No," he confessed after a few moments silence. "She's a prolific liar, that girl."

"What did she say?"

"She said a lot of things. Something about Hinata-kun attacking her because he was jealous that she had taken Sousuke-kun from him. She said that she was comforting him after his brother attempted suicide, not the other way around."

Kyouya sighed deeply.

"The biggest problem with society," he muttered, "is that people don't communicate when they should."

Viktor trembled. "I don't think she's his target anymore."

"Who is?"

"You," he whimpered.

Kyouya stared at Viktor in bewilderment. His body was bent forward and his lips were quivering. Even as he met Kyouya's gaze across the room, the distress in his eyes was apparent, and seeped out of him in one contagious stream.

"You're scared," Kyouya remarked, completely stunned.

"We have nothing but that girl's word, and she won't speak," Viktor continued, his voice on the verge of breaking, "but I really, truly believe that Hinata-kun is planning something. Kyouya, I'm terrified of losing you. You've been the only source of comfort in my life. Even if there is the slightest chance that he might hurt you-"

"Viktor, please," Kyouya begged quietly.

"No, Kyouya, if you don't let me say it, I'll never say it. I love you. I always loved you."

"I know," Kyouya scowled, "I know, okay?"

Viktor's heart plummeted. "You... you know," he repeatedly, feebly.

Kyouya nodded gently. "I don't know what else to say to you. I know. And I know you were jealous of Haruka, but you've got to understand Viktor, you never made anything easy for me."

Viktor stared, his eyes wide.

"I fell for her because she was just like him. That's why I wanted her. And he was so unlike you. You were just so chaotic, so unhappy. Nothing was ever worth doing if it wasn't self destructive - I used to think that was the ideology you lived by. I know it was difficult for you, coming out, especially when your parents were sending you to an all-boys academy. I was just so fascinated, so obsessed. I flung all my energy and devotion towards Haruka to escape that dark hole we were climbing down, and he didn't even realize what was happening. I guess I adored him because he was my friend and he was _safe_ , but with you... I spent so long trying to pretend that you meant nothing."

Viktor swayed in his chair, unable to process the deluge of information that was heading in his direction. "Am I nothing?" he asked miserably.

"No, of course you're not."

"Then please, can we try? Things were going so well before Haruka came along-"

"Don't be stupid, nothing was going right until he came along and you damn well know that."

" _Please_ , Kyouya," Viktor pleaded desperately. "If you didn't have feelings for me then we never would have done what we did all those years ago. You can't hate me, you can't be disgusted by me at least. You wouldn't come to me every time something goes wrong. I can be better, I can be kinder than Haruka and Kouhai-chan combined."

Viktor realized that he was crying, yet somehow he wasn't horrified or embarrassed - he was relieved. Years of inner turmoil and confusion were pouring out as if a tap had been twisted somewhere inside of him and he was now free to cry all he wanted. He barely noticed Kyouya stand until he had wrapped an affectionate arm around his shoulder, guiding Viktor's head to his welcoming chest.

"Listen, Viktor," Kyouya murmured, "I'm not saying no, but I'm not saying yes either. It's too soon. But... you're right. I am still attracted to you. Those feelings might grow yet. And there's something else we have to do first."

Viktor nodded, numbly, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Hinata-kun," he choked out, "we need to stop him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm _so, so sorry_ this took me a little longer than usual. My boyfriend fell ill unexpectedly at the beginning of the week and my whole writing schedule just crumbled. It _was_ meant to be out on Tuesday but better late then never haha. In my defense, this chapter is a beast and would not let itself be edited down to a reasonable length.
> 
> On another note, yay for a Viktor-centric chapter! I realized recently that a lot of people don't like him as much as I do because he gives off a 'weird vibe' so I tried my hardest to make him likeable here. I think he's less 'predatory' when his affections are directed towards Kyouya either way, although I am starting to ship him with Sousuke ever so slightly... oops. I find though that the more I write these characters, the more I want to portray them sympathetically, especially Hinata. The conflict Sousuke goes through in this chapter kind of reflects my own haha.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! I'm going to be dropping a two-part Seiichi/Touru fic shortly to bridge the gap between this project and my next, so please look out for that. And have a great day/night!


	10. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All eyes are on Hinata as final exams approach.

There was no room for cowardice in Soujiro’s sublime world; he captured only its ephemeral beauty in the long brush strokes that he was famous for - beautiful poetry for the mind and eyes to feast on. It was a place where piety, courtesy and benevolence thrived - yarn spun into abstract shapes; unspoken ideas twisted into metaphor. Cowardice was not something that belonged. It was an ugly word that would never be made pleasant by calligraphy. It trailed slime across the landscape, trampling the camellias and violets underfoot. And yet, as he stood on the veranda of his house, watching his cousin from afar, Soujiro felt that there was no word in the human language that would define him better than the word coward could. He trembled uneasily as he took his first step towards the boy in the indigo hakama, who stood at the base of the striking maple tree, staring wistfully towards the sky like an image on a woodblock in a bygone era.

Hinata was beautiful. That was not up for debate, even in his feeble state. If anything, Soujiro was the blemish that had infiltrated the scene; an ugly smear decimating the tranquility. If it was spring, his presence would scatter birds. The other boy’s pallid, violet-tinged skin, like translucent paper stretched over pulsating veins, combined ceaselessly with the overcast sky that morning. His hair was longer and finer. Like a lover, the wind toyed with it playfully. The dreary, wintry palette of the scene would make most people retreat back into their homes but Soujiro was breathless as he continued his approach down the cobbled path. The most disturbing thing about Hinata was that, like flourishing blood, he was beautiful in the most macabre way.

Once, when they were children, Soujiro had discovered Hinata obscured in shade at the bottom of the garden. He had been drawn there by the sound of strangled sobs but Soujiro was not daunted by it - only mildly curious. He realized as he got closer than Hinata was holding something on his lap. His knuckles were white as he clutched at the fur of the stray calico cat the compound had adopted. Tufts of black, orange and white were sprouting between his fingers like flowers and the cat was lifeless in his grasp. When the adults came and pried it away from him, talking morosely of burials and untimely demises, its blood had blossomed on the white shirt of Hinata's elementary school uniform. He looked haunted.

The adults murmured between themselves in dimly lit corners of the compound; their voices rose up and swallowed Soujiro whole. He could hear them from behind the walls, out through the windows as he played and across the dinner tables where he sat in silence.

“He said that a dog attacked it.”

“But do you believe him?”

“Not at all. The child has been acting strange since his mother vanished.”

There was no room for cowardice in Soujiro’s world. His legacy once he was gone would be beauty and nothing more. Like a graffiti artist spraying paint over a dilapidated wall in an lawless frenzy, he took all the ugliness that the world churned out as it revolved infinitely and painted over it in black ink. Prosperity. Honor. Respect. He could obscure all evils this way; take people somewhere else for just a moment. There was only one exception to this rule - one person who did not fit the molds that divided society in his mind. There was black and white; loveliness and ugliness; and then there was Hinata.

There was a strange dissonance in Hinata; the beauty of his feminine face sharply defied what was really going on beneath. Soujiro had suspected it for years, but the adults had fed such notions to him and he understood that. He had tried to stay objective - wanted to draw his own conclusions - but as the other boy smiled docilely across the garden in acknowledgement, Soujiro felt as if viscous cobwebs had fallen over his face and unseen shadows were groping at his legs. It was an uneasiness he felt with his entire body, giving him the impression that the air was heaving with malicious intent and eyes were watching him from every corner of the compound. He couldn't fight such a severe physical reaction. He had never been that strong.

“Good morning,” Hinata simpered, as soon as Soujiro was within earshot.

“Sousuke isn’t home yet. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?” Soujiro demanded. Although he had intended to keep his voice as benign as possible, they became vicious and accusatory once they left his mouth.

Hinata’s eyes were vacant but Soujiro still faltered beneath the intensity of his dead-eyed glare.

“Sousuke isn’t home yet?” he repeated emotionlessly.

“He sent me a message last night, telling me not to wait up for him. He said he saw you when he was out in town.”

The other boy narrowed his gaze sheepishly, directing it towards the base of the tree.

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” he responded.

For a brief moment, Soujiro wished that he had Sousuke’s strength and valor so that he could take Hinata by the collar and throttle him. He hadn’t even attempted to sound convincing; that irked him more than anything. Hinata just didn't seem to care how incriminating his lack of concern was. How had they grown so distant? A long time ago, Soujiro had wanted to protect both the twins so fiercely that he more or less became one of them. He would have taken a bullet for Hinata in a heartbeat. How had he let this happen? He was meant to shield them from the world, not cower in the corner with his paintbrushes, pretending to feel something other than the fathomless horror which plagued him as Hinata became more unhinged.

There was a third boy stood slightly out of view, watching the exchange with deep lines of worry etched into his pale forehead. Sousuke had resigned himself to the fact that he would be unable to make it across the garden without being seen but he continued to hug the wall, gingerly taking each conscientious step in the vain hope that they might disperse sooner rather than later. He attempted to straighten his crumpled shirt, which wouldn't sit flat against his torso, and prodded at his swollen face to gauge whether or not it had shrunk back down to its normal size. Sleeping on the couch had done him no favors. He felt exposed and self-conscious. His plan had been to shower and change long before he would have to even think about confronting Hinata.

Suddenly Soujiro began to take apprehensive steps towards the hakama-clad boy, whose mouth began to curve upwards into the shape of an impetuous grin. Sousuke couldn’t hear the words that were being exchanged but he was alarmed - not just by Soujiro's uncharacteristically heady approach, but by Hinata's apparent anticipation of it. The confrontation was surely due to his absence and he couldn't sit there and watch any longer. It wasn't in his nature. He stepped out of the shadows, brash and determined, to wordlessly position himself between the two. The tension dwindled into nothing, as abruptly as it had risen, leaving Sousuke to feel flustered and disheveled in the middle.

"What's going on?" he growled, vehemently eyeing them both.

Instinctively, Soujiro backed off and turned his face away in shame while Hinata's expression changed from one of amusement to faint disappointment. Neither of them responded to his question directly even though he waited expectantly with his arms outstretched, turning his head from side-to-side so that both of them could witness how truly incensed he was. It was mostly ruse - he didn't want them to fight but he didn't want to draw attention to his rumpled clothes either. His temper began to flare though. Soujiro was tugging at his arm, trying to steer him in the direction of the house.

“Come on, Sousuke,” he said wearily, “Lets make breakfa-”

“Were you with her?” Hinata suddenly asked.

 Sousuke blanched at the vacant look in his brother's eyes. The boy was so desperately trying to keep his composure but something was seeping out. The forced joviality in his voice wavered and crackled like radio waves. It disturbed Sousuke so much that he lowered his arm and subconsciously took a step backwards.

“Yes,” he yielded. He felt paralyzed and could do nothing but allow himself to be dragged along by Soujiro.

“ _All night long_?” Hinata sneered.

Soujiro stopped in his tracks and twisted his body to face his cousin. “You’re not welcome in my house any more, Hinata,” he admonished, folding his arms across his chest protectively, “so don’t follow us.”

“It wasn’t even like that Hinata, you almost frightened her to _death_ ,” Sousuke pleaded.

Hinata scowled. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, avoiding his brother's imploring gaze.

Soujiro glowered and let out a disgusted noise. As he was dragged towards the house, Sousuke's eyes remained fixed on his brother, who pressed himself up against the maple tree and sunk down to his knees feebly. He slowly lifted up the sleeve of his hakama, revealing translucent wrists marred by vertical lines. He began to stroke the scars gently, running his fingertips across the protrusions, before clamping his teeth down on his lower lip. Sousuke could only watch on helplessly as his Hinata began to drag his nails deliberately up the slope of his pale, slender arm, leaving a trail of raised, irritated skin.

\---

Sousuke wasn’t in the mood to eat; moreover, Soujiro wasn’t in the mood to cook. The pile of toast that had been rammed into the toaster in the aftermath of the confrontation was stone-cold, untouched and sagging on the plate as they sat side-by-side at the dining table, talking quietly between themselves. With Soujiro's mother bustling around the house, singing unabashedly to herself, they had no choice but to keep their voices low, leaning so close to each other that their foreheads almost touched as they brought each other up to speed.

Sousuke had been awoken partway through the night by Viktor, who called him to apologize, having told Kyouya-sensei everything. His dolorous voice had been peppered with odd sniffling noises that seemed to indicate he had been crying at some point. Sousuke was scared to ask what had occurred between the two teachers that night - Viktor's potential heartbreak caused him more anguish than he had expected it to but he stopped himself from meddling. He could cheer his teacher on in happier times but, for the time being, he had to stay focused on Hinata.

But bizarrely, Hinata had returned to his old, cordial self by the time their final exams rolled around. Now on a reduced timetable until Haruka-sensei deemed him fit to return full-time, for the two hours that he attended school each day, he was as gentle and mysterious as he ever was. The fighting stopped along with the hollow stares. He was emotive, affectionate towards all and pleasant to deal with. Baffled, Sousuke retired to the library each day to sit with Viktor, determined to pass his exams but unable to shake the feeling that it was all too good to be true. His suspicions were an obstruction he struggled to overcome as he navigated the curriculum, but Sousuke knew he was capable. He just needed to get through the week without distraction.

That was his excuse for avoiding Kouhai-chan. Her smile faltered every time he halfheartedly waved to her out in the corridor. She understood, though - or at least claimed to understand - that these exams were incredibly important. He would be attending university in a few months time after all. Still, she couldn't help but notice the extent of his self-restraint - he had evaded her, even when he had free time, ever since he had spent the night on her couch.

However, when Sousuke and Soujiro arrived at school on the final day of exams, he could put off seeing her no longer. A poster, emblazoned on every wall on the third floor, caught their eye as they headed towards their respective classrooms. Their eyes couldn't help but surrender to it - it was garishly designed, in orange and violet, so that no one would be able to walk by, ignorant of its existence.

__Tea party at the third year café!_ _

__Hosted by the TEA CEREMONY CLUB._ _

__Next Friday!_ _

__All third years welcome!_ _

In his peripheral vision, Sousuke saw Soujiro's face drain of colour.

“This is a joke, right?” his cousin asked uncertainly. “I mean, Hinata’s not in the tea ceremony club any more…”

Sousuke reached out and grabbed the top of the poster, tearing it from the wall. It was a hopeless act of vandalism. The posters were everywhere. Already, he had a sneaking suspicion that Hinata was behind the event somehow. He had motives and the Tea Ceremony Club was far too private to host such an event under normal circumstances anyway. It contained some of the more apprehensive and bashful students who fled to the clubroom every evening to relax rather than compete as they had done in their respective classrooms. Hinata was the only person there who had any reason to plough his energy into such a public and demanding gathering. _But why?_

Viktor and Kyouya had already arrived at the third year café by the time Soujiro and Sousuke got there. Rather than in her normal spot behind the counter, Kouhai-chan was sat at one of the tables, resting her chin on her knees. The layer of chocolate melting into the foam of her cappuccino was still in perfect condition; she hadn't even stirred the coffee, nor did she look up when the two boys entered. She seemed tired rather than scared. Had Kyouya not been sat beside her, brooding over his own coffee, Sousuke would have held her, but the man already looked stiff and uncomfortable being in such close proximity to the girl he adored. Clearly the wounds hadn't healed just yet.

“Hinata isn’t an active member of the tea ceremony club,” Viktor reminded them all gently once the boys had voiced their concerns. Their voices overlapped as they demanded answers. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“The headmaster okayed this without anyone else’s consent,” Kyouya scowled. “Surely he realizes that such a large-scale event requires __staffing__? Need I remind you that Haruka and I had to supervise the Halloween party out of school hours?”

“That was my __homecoming__ party,” Viktor responded with an affectionate chuckle.

“ _That’s not what I meant_."

The atmosphere in the room became grave once again as Viktor waltzed over to the counter, placing his latte glass in the sink. The sound of it chinking filled the void that the silence had left, only making it weigh even heavier. Everyone's anxiety was palpable. Sousuke was helping himself to an earl grey tea in order to keep his hands occupied; if he was sat at the table with the others, he would be wringing them by now.

“Is the café closed this morning?” Soujiro asked in a quaking voice, looking around at the empty room with furrowed brows.

“It’s been like this all week,” Viktor responded. “Once exams are over, things should return back to normal.”

Soujiro balked at this information. “The headmaster should have at least given you the week off,” he said to Kouhai-chan, who turned her downcast eyes towards him. “You have exams too, right?”

“It’s okay,” she answered quietly, “I’ve been revising while working.”

Sousuke watched this exchange carefully. Envy, he discovered, manifested itself physically in his case: his skin began to prickle uncomfortably and he could feel his heart palpitating in his chest as the emotion took hold. Kyouya was peering at them too, grimacing visibly as Soujiro reached out and took Kouhai-chan's hand in his own. It was an honorable and brotherly act, free of ulterior motives, but Sousuke still felt betrayed by it. He felt the muscles in his face begin to twitch.

That was when Viktor stepped forward, consciously obscuring his view of the scene.

“Are you worried?” he asked gently, placing a tentative hand on his student’s shoulder.

“Worried?” Sousuke repeated blankly.

“About Hinata-kun.”

Sousuke stared up at Viktor in unabashed silence until his mind caught up with the bigger picture. He had been stood by the boiler stewing in his own rage for so long that he was beginning to disassociate. He really was beginning to tap in to the part of his brain that was steering Hinata - the sick part that he had been unaware of for so long having invested all of his energy into protecting his older brother.

“Oh,” Sousuke responded gloomily. “Yeah.”

Viktor sighed deeply and reached out to ruffle his student's hair.

"You're a good kid," he said sadly, "I just wish I had answers for you."

\---

That afternoon, Sousuke made his way home alone.

With his exams now behind him, he had no reason to remain at the academy for the duration of the day and while many other third years stayed on in order to fulfill their obligations to their respective clubs, Sousuke needed time alone to mull over what had transpired. He wasn't even surprised when Hinata appeared, as still as a stone gargoyle, by the entrance to the compound. He had already changed into his casual clothes, minus the dark blue jacket which he had mysteriously excluded, despite the freezing temperature.

“Do you want some tea?” he asked cordially as Sousuke approached. “Just you and me, like old times?”

Hinata had returned home just before lunchtime, having been excused from all of his exams. He would most likely have to resit the school year. Of course, this hadn't bothered him in the slightest. He would remain a third year with access to the café and his circumstances would only differ in that Sousuke would be out of the picture - his mind had narrowed to such an extent that he didn't seem to acknowledge any issue with this. He had the edge and he knew it.

Hinata smiled shyly and even Sousuke fell under the impression that his brother was reformed. Still, his distrust began to claw its way back up to the forefront of his mind and he desperately tried to dismiss any stray thought that implied Hinata was sane. The situation was so strange after all that they had been through, and Sousuke was convinced that this rectified Hinata stemmed from a sinister source.

“Sure,” was his nonchalant response.

The bedroom they had once shared was much tidier than when Sousuke had last seen it. He softened when he saw that Hinata's favourite tea-set was already laid out on top of the table in wait with steam gently rising from the spout. As he sat down across from his brother, he admired the lilac flowers which had been hand painted along the ceramic base. They were such intricate, pretty flowers for such an ordinary object. 

“I missed this,” Hinata said cheerfully, gently whisking the matcha in his bowl. “We used to do this all the time.”

Sousuke remembered fondly. Every time he had returned home victorious after another grueling archery competition, he and Hinata would retire to their room and stay up late into the night, talking animatedly over hot tea until their father would barge in and demand that they keep quiet. It became tradition, which infuriated their father even more. During these simpler times, they had been best friends and virtually inseparable. 

“Hey,” Sousuke asked, after taking his first sip, “why aren’t you wearing the jacket that grandmother bought you? You haven’t been wearing it to school either.”

Hinata smiled. “I sold it,” he confessed, “for textiles.”

“Textiles?” Sousuke repeatedly uncertainly. “Doesn’t the tea ceremony club have a budget for that?”

He paused for a moment. Hinata wasn't an active member of the club anymore, according to Viktor, and lately he was always alone. There was no one left to attend his informal tea parties, never mind the spontaneous, humble ceremonies that he threw in the compound. But Hinata's passion would never wane - that was abundantly clear. He would continue to revise each step of the ceremony, even with no one there to partake in it with him.

"Never mind," Sousuke murmured. He suddenly felt waves of guilt washing over him as he watched Hinata gracefully pour the hot water into their cups.

The other boy smiled furtively, brushing his hair behind his ear. “Don’t tell grandma, okay?” he said.

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he said this- a familiar sight, as it was something that had been there perpetually before the era of Kouhai-chan. Even in the face of catastrophe, Hinata had an impish quality to him. He was the kind of person who caused mischief just to detract people from real issues; to make them laugh when they would have cried. He was shy and awkward but always earnest. There was no hardship in the world that he couldn't overcome with his sheer willpower. The only exception to this rule seemed to be hardships involving women. The compound that the boys resided in was patriarchal in nature. Sousuke couldn't bring himself to blame Hinata for his ruthless possessiveness even though he struggled to accept it. It had been passed down from father to son, after all. It existed, unconsciously, in him too somewhere.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something?” Hinata said, taking a sip.

“Mm?”

“It’s about Kouhai-chan.”

Sousuke almost choked on his tea. When he looked up, that mischievous glint had vanished from his brother’s ordinarily vibrant blue eyes.

“Have you kissed?” Hinata asked cheerfully, although the rigidity of his features betrayed his emotions.

Sousuke had been tricked; enticed into his old house under the pretense of brotherly affection so that Hinata could drill him on his relationship with Kouhai-chan. There was a desperation to him, subtly divulged through his actions as he squeezed the handle of the teapot a little too tightly and smiled that little bit too warmly across the table. And yet, Sousuke couldn’t lie. There was no point. Honesty was the best policy - or maybe Sousuke was just sick of tracing his own lies. Let Hinata stew in his own anger, let him burn out in rage. Reluctantly, he nodded.

Hinata’s eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched slightly. The pleasantness of their afternoon together dwindled dramatically. The air changed.

“Have you had sex with her?”

“No,” Sousuke responded firmly, shooting his brother a warning look. 

“Not even the other night, when you stayed at her house?”

“No.”

“Do you intend to?”

Sousuke narrowed his gaze towards the barren winter landscape of the garden, framed by the window. He thought back to that night, how he was drifting off on the sofa when she had placed a trembling hand on his shoulder. A proposition. He couldn’t look her in the eye as he shook his head, clamping down on his lower lip to keep himself calm, glad that the darkness cloaked his blushes. He wanted to grab her by the arms, pull her into his lap and do all the things he had imagined doing for so long. All those times he had dreamt of her, dragging their blossoming friendship kicking and screaming into the seedier reaches of his mind... But he had plans now: he needed to graduate and find a way to take Hinata far, far away. There was no future for anyone involved without distance. It was easier to remove himself from her life altogether.

“No,” he confessed after a pause.

Hinata stared at him over his bowl for a few moments. His mouth kept twitching and his gaze was intense. Every time he blinked it was jarring, like seeing a mannequin move.

“Get out,” he said suddenly.

But Sousuke wanted to stay. 

“Nii-sama, I-”

“Get out!” Hinata roared. He tore the bowl from Sousuke’s grasp and stood up. “Don’t you dare pretend to have any respect for me! It’s  _nii-sama_  one moment and  _Hinata_  the next! Make your mind up!”

Matcha painted the walls as shards of porcelain fell to the ground. Sousuke hadn’t even flinched as the bowl came hurtling over his shoulder, narrowly avoiding his temple. The onset of fear came too soon; all he could do was gawk at his panting brother, who clutched at his chest like he was in pain.

“Hinata, let me help you,” he quietly pleaded, taking a shaky step forward.

His brother lunged for the teapot. Sousuke was already out of the door by the time his fingers had wrapped themselves around the handle, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound of shattering never came, even as he stood catching his breath outside of the room for what felt like a lifetime. He could hear the shards of the cup clinking together behind the wall as Hinata began to collect them. Then there was silence. Feeling drained, Sousuke walked down the corridor and out of the house without looking back. For a fleeting moment, he had felt as if he was home again but now it was gone.

\---

Sousuke waited patiently for Soujiro to get home, resting his chin on the dining table as he sat morosely in the kitchen.

He had spent so many nights cooking with his extended family in the small, cluttered room and it was beginning to feel routine. He no longer felt strange or out of place living with his aunt and uncle; that was abundantly clear now that he had returned to his old home. His father’s absence concerned him but ultimately he was glad that he was far removed from Hinata. Their father was violent when he was drunk - usually towards strangers who gazed at him queerly in the street - but beating up his own sons was not out of the equation. Sousuke felt an uncomfortable twinge where his rib-cage sat as he remembered that night. So much had changed since - he could delude himself as much as he liked, but that was the absolute truth. There was no going back now.

As soon as Soujiro entered the house, dumping his school bag at the foot of his chair, his mother appeared in the doorway.

“Listen boys,” she glowered, “I know it’s getting dark out, but I’m __embarrassed__  to have people over the house lately. Have you seen the state of the garden? It’s been __neglected__. Can you at least prune the trees or something if you’re not going to get together and do a proper job of it this year? Your exams are over now, you should be making yourself useful.”

Soujiro shot his cousin an apologetic look. “We’ll do it,” he promised.

Sousuke grimaced into his folded hands. The sight of Kouhai-chan and Soujiro in the third year café had irked him more than he was willing to confess and he had to bite back his unexpected resentment. How much more of this was he going to have to take?

The two boys slipped into their winter garb and headed out. The sun was declining rapidly and the garden had already taken on a faint blue hue. Soujiro affectionately touched the bark of the nearest tree, peering up through the branches.

“If we try to cut all the dead branches today, she’ll be happy enough,” he said positively, “and we can finish the rest on Sunday.”

“Mm,” Sousuke murmured.

So off they headed towards the garden shed, which was situated behind a row of houses near the entrance to the compound. It was an eyesore; a rickety, deteriorating building. As Sousuke opened the door, the wood was soft beneath his fingers. Dry rot had set in, and nobody looked like they were in the mood to repair it. The communal gardens were a hassle, as everyone was too busy with their own lives and compound politics to bother keeping on top of it. Those who did enjoy gardening had their own flowerbeds and window boxes to maintain as well as their own tools to use. The only person who ever cared for the garden itself was now long gone.

“Your mother’s gloves are still here,” Soujiro said with a gentle smile as he picked up a pair of faded lilac gloves from one of the shelves.

“You say that every time we come in here.”

Sousuke took the gloves from his cousin and peered down at them. There had been a time when Sousuke’s fist would sit in his mother’s grasp, but now the gloves were several sizes too small. It was probably the closest he would come to holding her hand again, even though the gloves remained on the same shelf, season after season, as if someone, somewhere, expected her to waltz back in and resume her life at the compound.

“I wonder where she is sometimes,” Soujiro said, as he began maneuvering a wheelbarrow out of the way, “and if she realizes what she has done.”

“Our parents have an impact on our psychological state regardless of whether they’re around or not,” Sousuke sighed. “Hinata and I are the product of an arranged marriage. She was going to screw with our heads either way.”

He kicked the rake out of the way and thought wearily of the dead leaves scattered out in the garden. This was going to be a big job and with such limited daylight, it was probably going to take them days - weeks even - to get everything back to the way it was before fall. He picked up the long-handled sheers which were propped up against the lawnmower and heard the sound of something rolling across the shed. It stopped at Soujiro’s feet and absentmindedly he bent down to pick it up, with his eyes still on Sousuke.

“That’s a pretty nihilistic way of thinking.”

“Well, I’m Hinata’s brother, aren’t I?” Sousuke laughed bitterly.

His gaze drooped to the object Soujiro was holding. He was peering down at it with a queer expression.

“What’s that?” Sousuke asked.

“Rat poison,” Soujiro responded. His voice sounded strained.

“Oh.”

Sousuke began making his way out of the shed, dragging the shears along the floor behind him when his cousin reached out and took him by the arm.

“Sousuke, it’s brand new.”

“So?”

The other boy peered up at his cousin with an uneasy look. “We don’t have rats,” he said quietly. “We’d know. The whole compound would be on alert.”

He made his way towards the lawnmower and dragged it out of his way by the handle.

“Sousuke, __look__.”

There was more than just one bottle of rat poison. There were several, all lined up against the wall, wrapped in different labels and displaying the names of different brands. There were tubs of pellets too, stacked one on top of the other. They had been arranged to fit the shape of the lawnmower and thus entirely concealed by it. Sousuke lost count of how many liters and kilograms were there alone; he couldn't focus, as his cousin began to poke around the shed, uncovering more and more.

“We must have big rats,” Soujiro said weakly.

“His name is __Hinata__ ,” Sousuke grimaced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay. _Again._ I'm just really addicted to Stardew Valley right now and life got unexpectedly busy (I got promoted~) so time just flew by.
> 
> But yeah umm I hate this chapter and I'm going to pretend it doesn't exist. I had to cut out so much. Like you wouldn't even believe. This was 8,000 words at one point and that's not even including the last part of the chapter _which I had to cut out completely and add to Ch. 11_. So yeah. This wasn't fun to write at all haha. Thanks for your patience, comments, kudos, etc... also thanks to everyone on Tumblr who liked/reblogged too. I love you all and I'm sorry that this chapter is awful, I just gave up and uploaded it anyway ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Not good, I know, but it's better than tearing my hair out trying to perfect something that doesn't want to be perfected. Presumably I will return to it in the future for the sake of my own sanity because I hate the final product so much it is actually consuming me lmao. _Please don't hate me hahaha_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading guys! I've wanted to write something dark and sexy about the Notice Me Senpai cast for a while now, and since Skill Shot Labs revealed Sousuke and Hinata's tragic past, that seed in my head just grew and grew.


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